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LIBBY, ANDERSONVILLE, FLORENCE. 



THE 



O.A.I^TTJIiE, 



IMPRISONMENT, ESCAPE AND RESCUE 



OF 



JOHN HARROLD, 



A UNION SOLDIEE IN THE WAE OF THE REBELLION. 



WITH A DESCRIPTION OF PRISON LIFE AMONG THE REBELS 

— THE TREATMENT OF UNION PRISONERS — 

THEIR PRIVATIONS AND SUFFERINGS. 




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V^Ai 



Of WASH\^\-i; 



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PHILADELPHIA: 

Wm. B. Selheimkr, Printer, N. W. cor. Fifth and Chestnut Streets. 

1870. 



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DEDICATED, 



WITH RESPECT AND WARM FEELINGS OF GRATITUDE, 



\maid Jitte 



WHO RESCUED ME IN MY FLIGHT FROM THE HORRIBLE PRISON 

PEN OF FLORENCE, BROUGHT ME WITHIN THE LINES 

OF THE UNION ARMY, AND ENABLED ME TO 

REACH MY 

HOME AND FAMILY IN SAFETY. 



JOHN HARROLD. 



INTRODUCTION. 



I have often been solicited to publish the details 
of my experience in the army during the Rebellion, 
including an account of my capture, imprisonment, 
and the perilous incidents connected with my escape; 
but a feeling of diffidence long restrained me, until 
I reflected that the record of a father's services, in 
the trying scenes of that period, was the only legacy 
I could leave to my five boys — four of whom were 
born before I enlisted. 

I shall enter into no description of the battles in 
which I participated, because I know that abler 
historians have performed that task better than I 
could. Nor can I give precise dates of all that 
occurred, from the fact that I was robbed of my 
diary by a rebel officer while a prisoner. 

My ignorance of the country through which I 
traveled prevents me from naming counties or dis- 
tricts; and I could only guess at distances, except 
where I received information from others. 

My purpose is, to give a plain and truthful narra- 
tive of facts as they occurred, and as they were seen 



from a soldier's stand-point. I might have added a 
great deal that was irrelevant, but none the less 
interesting, to this sketch, by commenting upon much 
that I saw and heard; but so much has been written 
by others that I deemed it unwise to make the 
attempt. I only seek to discharge a duty I owe to 
my children in penning this narrative; but if its 
perusal should serve to add to the pleasure of an 
idle hour, or give the public a higher appreciation of 
our citizen soldiery — their patriotism and devotion 
to the Union — it will prove as gratifying to myself 
as to my friends, who induced me to make the ven- 
ture. 

JOHN IIARROLD. 

Atj.aktic Cjty, N. J, 



THE 

Capture, Imprisonment, Escape and Rescue 



OF 



CHAPTER I. 

ENLISTMENT — DRILLING — PICKET DUTY. - 

In common with thousands who left liome, family 
and friends, I responded to the call of President Lin- 
coln for volunteers, in July, 1862. I was but a jour- 
neyman mechanic, with a wife and four small children 
dependent upon me for support. I confess I was 
unpleasantly situated to think of entering the army, 
and many pronounced me rash and thoughtless to 
leave them partially unprovided for ; but, after con- 
sulting with my wife, whose patriotic feelings seemed 
to overcome all apprehensions, she gave a reluctant 
consent. *' Wait till you are drafted," was the 
advice of many warm friends, as they pointed to a 
toiling mother and four almost helpless children. 



8 

This agreed with my notions of interest and comfort, 
but not with my sense of duty to my country. No 
matter what may be a man's position in life, he must 
be callous, indeed- — dead to every patriotic impulse — 
if he can passively witness gigantic efforts to destroy 
this Union without extending an arm to save it. 

Feeling thus, I made what provision I could for 
my family, and volunteered under the first call for 
three years' service — joining the 138th Pennsylvania 
Regiment, which was organized August 16th, 1862, 
at Harrisburg, under the command of Col. C. L. K. 
Sumwalt. I was enrolled in Company A, M. R. 
McClellan, captain. 

From the 16th to the 30th of August, the regi- 
ment was drilling, equipping, and making the neces- 
sary arrangements to take the field, for which we 
started on the day last mentioned, and reached Balti- 
more on the 31st. Our colonel reported to Major 
General Wool, who assigned us to duty at the Relay 
House, known as the junction of the Washington and 
Baltimore and Ohio Railroads. 

It was here that my first experience as a soldier 
commenced, by going on picket duty in regular order. 
In this capacity there is much of exposure, no little 
danger, and many privations to be endured, — includ- 
ing loss of sleep, hunger, wearing wet clothes, &c., 
all of which is readily comprehended by those familiar 
with a soldier's life. On one occasion, I was detailed, 
with some twenty others, for special duty of a confi- 



9 

dential character. We accomplished all that was 
required of us to the satisfaction of our superior 
officers, and returned to our command in safety. 
But, in the nine months we remained at the Relay 
House, we had many pleasant seasons of relief, 
which we seldom found afterward. False alarms, 
the sudden call to arms, and the jokes incident to 
these "camp scares," afforded the "boys" no little 
amusement. 



CHAPTER II. 

ACTIVE DUTY — FLANKED — THE COUNTERMARCH — 
BATTLES OF WAPPING HEIGHTS, KELLY'S FORD AND 
BRANDY STATION. 

After Lee's invasion of Pennsylvania, our regi- 
ment was transferred to Maryland Heights, where we 
began to realize a soldier's life in earnest. The 
nearer we approached the enemy, the more arduous 
became our duties, as a greater degree of vigilance 
and more severe discipline was necessarily exacted. 
We remained at this place two weeks, when we were 
transferred to tl»e Third Division, Third Corps, com- 
manded by Major General French, with Major 
General Meade as Commander-in-Chief, just in time 
to participate in the battle of Wapping Heights. I 
will not pause to describe this battle. It is enough 
to say that our regiment got the praise of "behaving 
admirably," and we thought we deserved it. I will 
not deny that I was timid and apprehensive as the 
chances of life and death were alternating in the 
struggle, for thoughts of my wife and children 
would intrude upon me; but the excitement, roar 
and confusion incident to battle soon chased away 
such feelings, and we gradually learned to become 
insensible to danger. After this "brush" we coun 



11 

termarched to Warrington, and encamped at the 
Junction a few days, when we struck tents and moved 
to the North Branch of the Rappahannock, and 
encamped there some weeks. 

We were again ordered on the march, and pro- 
ceeded to Culpepper, where we remained about two 
weeks. We moved from here some two miles, when 
an order came to countermarch ; and that counter- 
march I shall never forget. Lee had flanked us, and 
we were compelled to fall back precipitately. The 
panic, the confusion and the scramble to escape that 
wily general's trap, can be better imagined than 
described. The soldier would sooner, by far, engage 
in a deadly conflict, than undergo the trials and 
vexations of a hasty retreat. On such occasions but 
little of discipline is observed, and man's selfish in- 
stincts are prominently developed. Self-preservation 
is the prevailing motive, and few pause to render 
help to those who are sick or disabled. Of course, 
there are exceptions, and noble ones, but, as a general 
thing, each man is for himself, and all cumbersome 
articles — some essential to the comfort of the soldier 
— are cast aside. Anything and everything that 
retards speed is thrown away — from the cartridge- 
box to the musket. 

We reached Fairfax Station, however, after having 
partially recovered from the disorder into which the 
corps was thrown, and rested two days. From this 
point we followed the rebels back, and found they 



12 

bad torn up the Orange and Alexandria Railroad 
for some twenty miles. 

This we repaired, and moved on to Kelly's Ford, 
where we participated in an animated fight, and cap- 
tured a rebel regiment. From this point we moved 
on to Brandy Station, our regiment being placed on 
the extreme front of the corps. Here we encoun- 
tered the "Johnnys" in strong force, with their artil- 
lery well posted. Our regiment was ordered to 
advance, and did so most nobly, amid a storm of 
*'iron hail and leaden rain." After a fearful strug- 
gle, which was hotly contested by the rebels, we 
compelled them to make a hasty retreat ; but not 
without the loss of one of our bravest officers. Cap- 
tain L. C. Andress, of Company H, — a gentleman 
beloved and mourned by the entire regiment. Others, 
of course, shared a similar fate, and we had our share 
of wounded and missing. 

After resting a few days, we were ordered to strike 
tents on the morning of the 23d of November, and 
we crossed the river at Jacob's Ford. After a long 
and wearisome march, we encountered the enemy in 
strong force at Locust Grove. Here a terrible bat- 
tle was fought, lasting from 2 o'clock until after 
dark. Our regiment was long and warmly engaged, 
and our terrible loss attests the courage with which 
our men faced the foe. AVe lost sixty in killed and 
wounded, including our colonel, who was severely 
injured. My good fortune followed me throughout 



IS 

the entire conflicto I did not receive a scratch, 
although a number of my comrades fell around and 
near me. 

It would he impossible to portray the various 
scenes enacted, or to describe the different positions 
occupied by the troops. There is constant changing 
and manouvering, as circumstances may render 
expedient, and one description of a battle might 
answer for many. It may not be amiss, in this con- 
nection, to append the following picture of a battle 
scene, which appeared in print shortly after the war, 
and which will give the reader a better idea of its 
horrors : — 

" Steadily the brave fellows ascended the range of 
hills, two ranks deep, under a furious fire of artillery, 
flashing death's terrors under the most fearful form, 
and gayly they climbed the numerous fences in their 
way. Men dropped, gaps were made in the ranks, 
but the lines were immediately closed — all were com- 
pact as before. The wounded silently fell. All 
bosh about the screams of the wounded that we read 
of in the books. On they went until a blazing fi-re 
of musketry stormed upon them from the rifle-pit 
hitherto invisible, and induced a halt. Firmly they 
stood and returned the fire. Up went the swords of 
the field officers, wildly cheering them on. Again 
they advanced. Again they halted. Line officers 
ran behind the men, picking up cartridge-boxes of 
the dead, and replenishing those of the living. 



14 

Back and forth they went, in the rear of their 
companions, asking men if their ammunition held out, 
indicating localities where shots might be effective, 
and encouraging them with hopeful words : 

' Steady, boys, steady; give 'em thunder! Smith, 
are you hurt?' 

'Yes, sir; my arm's broke.* 

* Go to the rear, my boy.' 
Another boy falls. 

* Where are you struck, Robert?' 
*In the thigh, sir. I can't move.' - 

* Lie still and keep cool ; they'll take you away 
soon.' 

'Dennis, what's the matter with you? Why the 
devil don't you fire?' 

' The ball's banked to the top o' me muskit to- 
gither, sir, and broke the bagenet.' 

'Pitch it away; here's another. Fire faster, 
Jones! That's right, Robinson! Give it to 'em! 
Splendid! boys, splendid! Down with you, a new 
battery opening.' 

So it goes, encouragement and reproof by turns, 
in quantities varied by the individual vitality of the 
officers, interspersed with constant orders to lie down 
and avoid the fire of the batteries. 

'D n this knapsack! I can't stand it!' says 

one; and it is jerked off. 

' This coat is as hot as ,' says another, and 

ofi* it goes. 



15 

Terrible is this work of death! The enemy in 
the rifle-pits have the advantage of three to one. 
They put their heads up, fire, and down they go to 
load. 

*0h, blast it! Cap'n, we ain't got no chance 
against them fellers; we ought to have reinforce- 
ments.' 

This cry extends along the lines. Colonels, in 
their visits to their regiments, hear it from their line 
officers ; soon it comes to the knowledge of the 
generals, and after an hour's fighting, an order to 
fall back is given, which is obeyed with a steady 
pace, and but little straggling." 

We next moved to Mine Run, where we found the 
enemy strongly entrenched. The weather was 
intensely cold, and the rebels so well guarded against 
assault, that our commander wisely concluded to fall 
back. This we did in good order, although closely fol- 
lowed by Lee's forces. We succeeded in recrossing 
the Rapidan with the loss of a few prisoners, and 
encamped once more at Brandy Station, where we 
remained until the army was reorganized — perform- 
ing picket duty, reconnoitering, and other service 
pertaining to camp life. 



CHAPTER III. 

THE ARMY REORGANIZED — GENERAL GRANT TAKES 

COMMAND— THE BATTLES OF THE WILDERNESS 

"on to RICHMOND" — THE TERRIBLE CONFLICT 
AT COAL HARBOR. 

While encamped here, the army was thoroughly 
reorganized by that great chieftain — who never knew 
defeat — General Grant. There had been such fre- 
quent changes of commanders that the soldiers 
began to grow distrustful. Each of those displaced 
had their admirers ; and, say what you will, confi- 
dence in a general is an essential auxiliary to the 
firmness and bravery of an army. While many were 
loth to part with old favorites, few, if any, were 
unwilling to accord great merit to General Grant; 
and in view of the rapid dismissals and successions 
preceding his command, the Army of the Potomac 
gave him as hearty a welcome as could be expected 
under the circumstances. 

Long before the fourth day of May, 1864, had 
dawned upon the hills of Virginia, the rolling of 
drums, and the shrill notes of the bugle, aroused the 
slumbering Army of the Potomac, and preparations 
v/ere immediately commenced for the long expected 
movement. Winter quarters were promptly stripped 



17 

of their appurtenances, and the troops were paraded 
under arms, and stood in readiness for the word of 
command. The following eloquent and stirring ad- 
dress of the Commanding General was then published 
to the army prior to the commencement of the march, 
which I feel called upon to embody in this narrative. 
I need not say that its words of caution, the con- 
fidence expressed, and the thrilling appeal made, in 
view of the great task before us, made a deep impres- 
sion upon every patriotic mind, and all felt their force 
and importance: 

Head-Quarters Army of the Potomac, "I 

May 4th, 1864. / 

Soldiers ! — Again you are called upon to advance 
against the enemies of your country. The time and 
the occasion are deemed opportune by your Com- 
manding General to address you a few words of con- 
fidence and caution. You have been reorganized, 
strengthened, and fully equipped in every respect. 
You form part of the several armies of your country, 
the whole under the direction of an able and a dis- 
tinguished General, who enjoys the confidence of the 
Government, the people and the army. Your move- 
ments, being in co-operation with others, it is of the 
utmost importance that no effort should be left un- 
spared to make it successful. 

Soldiers! — The eyes of the world are looking 
with anxious hope to the blow you are about to strike 
in the most sacred cause that ever called men to arms. 



Remember your homes, your wives and your cliildren ! 
and bear in mind, that the sooner your enemies are 
overcome, the sooner you will be returned to enjoy the 
benefits and the blessings of peace. Bear with patience 
the hardships and sacrifices you will be called on to 
endure. Have confidence in your officers and in each 
other. Keep your ranks on the march and on the 
battle-field; and let each man earnestly implore God's 
blessing, and endeavor, by his thoughts and actions, 
to render himself worthy of the favor he seeks — with 
a clear conscience and strong arms, actuated by a 
high sense of duty to preserve the Government and 
the institutions handed down to us by our forefathers 
— if true to ourselves, victory^ under God's blessing, 
must and will attend our efforts. 

George G. Meade, 
Major- General Commaiiding. 

On the morning of the 4th of May, therefore, the 
whole Grand Army of the Potomac was put in motion, 
and crossed the Rapidan at Martin's Ford. We 
advanced through the Wilderness, skirmishing, until 
we encountered the main body of Lee's army. A 
series of battles ensued from the Wilderness to Spot- 
sylvania Court House, the enemy disputing every 
inch of ground, and fighting with a bravery worthy 
a better cause; but Yankee courage and perseverance 
admitted of no pause, and General Grant kept us 
constantly on the move. We drove the enemy from 



19 

one entrenciitnent to another, defeating their best 
strategy in manouvering, and putting Lee's flanking 
tactics at defiance. 

The carnage was terrible, and both armies were 
sadly depleted ; but troops came pouring in from the 
North, and our numbers were kept pretty well up to 
the mark. I will not attempt to describe the perilous 
scenes through which I passed; that task belongs to 
the historian, and to that source the reader must look 
for particulars. Throughout all these engagements 
I was at my post, and in none of these sanguinary 
conflicts did I receive bodily injury worth mentioning. 
The miraculous escapes I made, ev^en when men were 
falling one by one around me, seemed to inspire the 
belief that I should come out of the war unharmed ; 
and this confidence in my "good luck," as soldiers 
term it, did much to render me cool and collected in 
time of battle. I need not say how thankful I felt 
for my preservation at the close of each conflict, and 
yet I could not but feel sad to see my comrades drop 
down, one after another, like leaves in autumn. 

After nine days and nights of hard fighting, our 
commander issued a congratulatory address, inform- 
ing us that we had driven the enemy from all his 
strongholds, stating the number of prisoners captured, 
and naming the advantages obtained, closing by call- 
ing upon us to be ready at a moment's warning for a 
forward march. The reader can imagine the condi- 
tion wc were in to resume hostilities. In all this 



20 

time we were frequently without rations, and were 
compelled to endure hunger as well as fatigue. We 
could only take ^'cat-naps," as opportunity offered, 
on the ground, in the storm, standing or walking, for 
the exhausted soldier will sleep on foot as well as in 
the saddle. 

The greatest annoyance, however, consisted in the 
irregularity of the supply trains. While on the 
advance, constantly fighting or pursuing, it is impos- 
sible for them to keep up. Indeed, it would be 
dangerous to do so ; for, should any sudden reverse 
come upon us, they might prove a valuable prize to 
the enemy, if they did not prove an insuperable bar- 
rier to a safe retreat. Hence the necessity of keep- 
ing them a certain distance in the rear. Under such 
circumstances, parties are detailed to bring ^'hard 
tack" to the front, and deal it out in small parcels 
to the soldiers, when it is safe to do so. 

We now took up our line of march, crossed the 
Pamunky river, on our way to Coal Harbor, and 
traveled two days and nights without rations, as the 
supply train failed to reach us. But, we knew that 
Gen. Grant's motto was "onward," and that we must 
move on with or without rations. We reached Coal 
Harbor about the 2d of June, where our cavalry was 
sorely pressed, and halted for the supply train to 
come up, as both our stomachs and haversacks were 
empty. We feasted on a soldier's fare, and slept, as 
only the weary can sleep, until 4 o'clock in the 



21 

afternoon, when we were aroused and moved out 
about two miles, to the Coal Harbor and Richmond 
Turnpike. 

Here we halted, commenced manouverinor and 
forming in line of battle. The questions — ''What's 
the matter?" "Where's the Johnny's?" &c., went 
along the line. Our curiosity, however, was soon 
satisfied; for I never witnessed as sudden and as 
terrible an onslaught as that made upon us by the 
enemy. It was like the shock of an earthquake — 
the ground trembled — cheeks paled that had been 
facing death in every shape for the past two weeks. 
Lips were compressed, and muskets grasped tighter, 
as this sure premonition of a hard struggle came 
upon us. As we formed in line our brigade was 
ordered to advance. We had scarcely crossed the 
Coal Harbor road, and penetrated the woods, when 
the enemy opened with musketry and artillery. The 
shot and shell came upon us like a hailstorm. The 
whiz-zoo-oo of the bullets, the rattle of grape, and 
the roar of shells — tearing up the earth and wrench- 
ing large limbs from trees, hurling them in all direc- 
tions — added to the awful grandeur of the scene, 
and was well calculated to test the courage of the 
stoutest heart. 

Our regiment, with the 6th Maryland, charged 
through a swamp waistband deep, and carried that 
portion of the enemy's works in front of us — cap- 
turing more prisoners than the aggregate number of 



22 

men in both our regiments. This feat was performed 
while the storm of death ra^-ed around us, and not a 
man quailed or faltered, but one and all pressed on 
with an enthusiasm that seemed to rise proportionate 
to our dangerous surroundings. The attack of the 
enemy was so violent, and so simultaneous, that each 
man appeared to be impressed with the belief that 
the fate of the daj depended upon his own individual 
exertions. Never did soldiers vie with each other 
more noblj in performing deeds of valor; never did 
I witness harder fighting. But, once more our glo- 
rious flag waved in triumph, and even the wounded 
and dying were consoled with the shouts of victory. 
Again I escaped with a few slight scratches, which 
some might magnify into wounds, but they caused 
me but trifling inconvenience. Of course, I was in 
great peril on several occasions, and actually had a 
part of my moustache shaved off by a bullet. I have 
no disposition to glorify myself, or to play the hero 
on paper, therefore I shall not allude to my personal 
efforts on that day; but I consider it one of the 
proudest records of my life to have fought side by 
side with men whose valor and prowess made them 
heroes indeed. It was this battle, above all others, 
that dispirited the rebels, and must have convinced 
the intelligent portion of them that they were only 
struggling in a "lost cause." 



CHAPTER IV. 

PROMOTION — CAPTURE, 

Here we held our ground and fortified strongly — 
continuing our operations at Coal Harbor from the 
2d to the 12th of June. At this point I received 
the appointment, by detail, of Brigade Postmaster, 
in connection with that of the Regiment — a position 
I had held for some time. The new duties devolving 
upon me made it necessary to have the use of a 
horse; and I soon became master of a "bunch of 
bones" which bore a strong resemblance to the rider, 
as I was much reduced by the hardships I had passed 
through. I was kept oh the move, however, having 
to visit many head-quarters frequently, to attend to 
mail matters for the brigade and regiment. I was 
often compelled to go to the Sanitary Commission 
Head-Quarters to get my mails, when I could not 
obtain them through the proper channel. 

While at this post, about mid-day on the 12th of 
June, I discovered that the head-quarters of the army 
was broken up. I mounted my celebrated steed, 
known to the boys as "Rapidan," and which ex- 
torted many humorous comments upon both horse and 
rider, and started for the front, where I saw my 
Colonel, and asked him if he had received orders to 



1^ 



24 

move. He said he had orders to move hack to some 
lines of entrenchments that had been erected that 
day. I inquired whether he thought a general move- 
ment was about to take place. He thought not, and 
was under the impression that a part of the army 
would move, and that our corps and the Second Corps 
would remain for a day or two. I asked for instruc- 
tions, when he told me to remain at the Sanitary 
Commission Head-Quarters over night. I noticed 
that his servants, with the Majors and Adjutants, 
were in the rear with the horses, and he directed me 
to tell the former to have every thing ready in case 
a forward movement should be made, of which he 
would apprise me. 

I rode back in company with the Commissary Ser- 
geant of my regiment, delivered the Colonel's orders 
to his servants, made final arrangements for the 
night, and laid down to sleep. About 3 o'clock, A. 
M., I was aroused by a comrade, who informed me 
that the cavalry were passing. I jumped up, well 
knowing that it was the rear guard of the army. 
This was somewhat perplexing; but after consulting 
with my companion, it was decided that I should 
start out and endeavor to find my command, although 
we both considered it a pretty dangerous undertaking 
at such an hour. I mounted "Old Rapidan," and 
went about half a mile to an open space, where there 
had been a number of division and brigade head- 



25 

quarters the evening previous, but everything had 
disappeared as if by magic. 

In this dilemma I scarcely knew how to proceed, 
or what to do. I was bewildered, and tried to pene- 
trate the darkness, but in vain. I heard picket firing 
in various directions, saw the camp-fires burning in 
the distance, and still I hesitated what course to 
pursue. I finally concluded to visit the new entrench- 
ments. I had traveled about half a mile, when I 
paused to listen, and hearing pretty loud talking 
ahead of me, felt certain our men were there. I 
started ofi" in a good round trot, and soon reached 
the vicinity of Old Coal Harbor Tavern. Here I 
was startled by voices apparently coming from the 
underbrush near me, and directly there came the 
stern command — 

"Halt!" 

My old horse was a disciplinarian, and instantly 
stopped. I confess I trembled with apprehension, as 
I knew not whether the command came from friend 
or foe. By the time I recovered my self-possession, 
I was surrounded by about twenty-five rebels. In a 
moment the bridle of my horse was seized, and three 
muskets leveled at my head. 

"Dismount!" was the next imperative order, 
which I slowly obeyed ; and mustering all the cou- 
rage I could, resolved to make the best of my 
unpleasant situation. The examination began with; 

"Hello, Yank, you're in the wrong box this time." 

2 



26 

"I should judge so, sir." 

"What are }'ou?" 

"I am a United States soldier, sir." 

"What are you doing out here?" 

"Looking for my command." 

"Which way have they gone?" 

"That is what I want to find out. What regiment 
do you belong to?" 

"Sixteenth Alabama." 

"You won't kill a fellow, will you?" 

" Oh, no. Come along ; we want to show you to 
our colonel." 

Accordingly, I was taken before a long, lank, lean, 
rawboned Alabamian, with a most repulsive counte- 
nance, and a uniform a good deal the worse for wear. 
His first salutation was — 

"Hello! who do you belong to?" 

"To Uncle Sam, sir." 

"What corps do you belong to?" 

"The sixth, sir." 

"Which way has the army moved?" (These ques- 
tions were asked rapidly.) 

"That is what I came out here, to my sorrow, to 
find out." 

"Don't you know which way they have moved?" 

"Even if I did, colonel, I should be very sorry to 
give you any information in regard to their move- 
ments. It would not look well in me to come out 
here and betray my own comrades." 



27 

"I will soon find out." 

"I'll guarantee, sir, that General Grant will soon 
turn up somewhere." 

Examining me from head to foot, and looking 
earnestly at my haversack, he asked — 

"What have jou got in that haversack?" 

" Some letters and private effects of my own." 

"I will take charge of them." 

"That haversack," I replied, "is my own private 
property." It was a very neat patent-leather sack, 
and I was loth to part with it ; but right was forced 
to yield to might. 

"I want it." 

" Colonel, that is the only thing I have left of any 
service to me. I hope you will permit me to re- 
tain it." 

"He repeated, in a peremptory manner, "I want 
it," and I was forced to surrender what was to me 
a treasure indeed. 

In the meantime, some thirty or forty persons were 
brought in, and the guard received orders to march 
us off to General Mahone's head-quarters, where we 
came to a halt, and was soon surrounded by a number 
of the most wretched-looking men I ever saw. Some 
of their uniforms resembled Joseph's coat, exhibiting 
patches of all colors, and well-ventilated at that. 
A more dirty, squalid, poverty-stricken set of soldiers 
I never saw assembled together. They had nothing 
but tobacco, which they offered to trade for finger 



28 

rings, watches, buttons, &c. Soon a fine, noble- 
looking officer approaclied us, and, directing his con- 
versation to me, remarked — 

"Boys, you were caught napping this time." 

"Yes, sir," I replied. 

"Which way has your army gone?" (This 
appeared to be the leading question.) 

" Captain, if I knew I should be loth to tell you." 

"Oh, that is nothing." 

"I know, sir, it is jiotJiing more than acting the 
part of a traitor, and the informer would be guilty 
of treason." 

"Have you any papers?" 

"No, sir. I have nothing left but a diary." 

"Let me see it." 

To use an army phrase, I thought it was "gone 
up," and said, "do not deprive me of that. Colonel 
Saunders, commanding a brigade in General Ma- 
hone's division, took my haversack from me." 

"Oh, he will give it back to you again." 

"He gave me but little hope that I should ever 
see it again." 

He commenced perusing my diary, and, after look- 
ing over it for some time, suddenly paused. Look- 
ins at me sternlv, he said — 

"Now, I want to ask you a question, and desire a 
candid answer. As a man of honor, I want vou to 
give me an honest answer." 

"If consistent with honor, I will." 



29 

^'This is the question: Do jou really think that 
General Grant gained any advantage over General 
Lee in the battle of the Wilderness, and up to the 
present time ?" 

"Captain, I am astonished at the question." 

"Why?" 

"I believe, as much as I believe I have an exist- 
ence, that you would have kept us in the Wilderness 
nine years instead of nine days, if you could. We 
have driven you back to within seven miles of Rich- 
mond. If you could have prevented it, you cer- 
tainly would." 

"Oh, you are infatuated," he exclaimed, as he 
handed back my diary. 

Our numbers were now increased to over fDrty. 
We were placed in a large barn, under guard, and 
well they performed their duty. Some of our men 
were in a sorry plight, having been plundered of 
hats, coats, boots, &c. We had been there but a 
short time, when a ragged, rough-looking fellow 
demanded our gum and woolen blankets, knapsacks, 
and every article we needed for personal comfort. 
One of the men told him we were prisoners of war, 
and did not know that we had fallen into the hands 
of highway robbers. This only provoked a volley 
of the most shocking oaths, asserting that the rebels 

"could lick the d d Yankees any time." I told 

him he was very brave among unarmed men, and he 
could afford to exhaust his wrath upon us. 



CHAPTER V. 

STARTIX'r rOE '-LIBBY.*' 

After being stripped and robbed of all save suffi- 
cient to cover us. we were ordered to **fall in,"' with- 
out a mouthful to eat. We marched over Gaines" 
Farm, across the Chickahominy. and over the cele- 
brated McClellan Bridire. at Gaines' Mills — follow- 
ing up the rear of the rebel army — through the 
historic fields of Fair Oaks, and brought up in the 
rear of Longstreet's Corps. "We turned to the left 
of the Fair Oaks' battle field into a direct road to 
Richmond — passing through some very formidable 
fortifications, guarded by the elite of the '"chivalry." 
These were termed the "Home Guards.'' and were 
held in great contempt by the men at the front. 
Those who had seen service, while guarding us, gave 
us more freedom in our replies to any jeers or coarse 
jokes put upon us. But not so the "chivalry.'' As 
we entered the main defences of Richmond, these 
holiday soldiers would sing out "on to Richmond I on 
to Richmond!" One fancy fellow, with a flashy uni- 
form, appeared very boisterous, and kept repeating 
the expression. ''Oh. yes." I replied, ''General 
Grant has detailed us to put up his Head-Quarters in 
Richmond.*' He almost exploded with rage, and 



31 

uttered curses that I will not repeat here. "Why," 
said I. '"that fellow looks as if he had just come out 
of a rifle-pit." This brought the laugh upon him 
from the old guard, and he hastily left amid their 
jeers. 

We reached the suburbs of Richmond hungry and 
thirsty, and laid down to rest: but I was soon 
aroused by calls for the mail agent. I was asked 
for papers, and the usual inquiries were made in 
regard to the whereabouts of the armv. ,kc.. to all of 
which I replied as formerly. We were soon ordered 
to march, and proceeded through the streets to Libby 
Prison, entering the centre of the buil-iing. I con- 
fess I was agreeably disappointed in regard to it3 
sanitary condition. The apartment we entered was 
very clean, with a long diuing-table running through 
the centre, and a number of pipes conveying water 
to a bath-tub. We had eaten nothing since the 
evening previous, and seeing the table and other con- 
veniences for meals, we naturally anticipated a speedy 
supply of rations : but, alas I we were doomed to cruel 
disappointment. 

After performing our ablutions, we inquired of the 
guards for something to eat, but no attention was 
paid to our appeal. In about half an hour, and 
before we had gone through the process of cleansing 
our persons, an officer strutted in very pompously 
with a book under his arm, and with more gold lace 



32 

upon him than a monarch's lacquey would wear. 
This was the notorious Dick Turner. 

His first salutation was — "Fall in, you d d 

yankee s s of b s." We obeyed quickly, not 

knowing what was to follow; but we soon found 
out to our sorrow. I had a watch and thirty- 
six dollars in money with me, and flattered my- 
self that, as I had been suffered to retain this pro- 
perty so far, it would not be taken from me ; but I 
was mistaken. My clothing, save all that was neces- 
sary to hide nakedness, my watch and money, were 
all taken from me by order of this robber ; and I was 
left in this pitiful condition without a cent in my 
pocket. 



CHAPTER VI. 

THE HORRORS OF LIBBY PRISON — THE FOOD — THE 

VERMIN. 

The process of plundering the men of what little 
effects thej managed to secrete about them having 
been completed, we were ordered up to the third 
story, and packed in a room with others, making the 
number of occupants 270 in our apartment. We 
had nothing to eat, and many of us were suffering 
from hunger as well as fatigue. Finding we must fast 
till morning, we made arrangements to lie down, but 
this was no easy matter. We were so thickly stowed 
that I had not room to stretch my limbs, although 
the men were wedged as close as possible. Standing, 
sitting, or laying down, we were most uncomfortably 
crowded. In spite of free ventilation, the air we 
breathed was contaminated, and each prisoner was 
constantly inhaling this offensive atmosphere. 

Next morning many of us were suffering all the 
tortures that hunger can inflict, but still no rations. 
Noon came without a morsel to eat, and not until 3 
o'clock in the afternoon did we receive the welcome 
tidings that rations were to be served out. We 
formed ourselves into messes of twenty, and received 

our quota. My share consisted of a piece of corn 

9-r- 



34 

bread one and a half inches broad and two inches long, 
about a tablespoonful of beans, and a piece of bacon 
weighing two ounces, lean, and literally covered with 
maggots. The stench from it was sickening. Hungry 
as I was I could not stomach that, so I eat my corn 
bread, which was a compound of corn, corn-cobs and 
hulls, all ground up together, and scarcely fit for 
horse feed. 

Such were the rations apportioned to us for twenty- 
four hours, and such was our daily fare, in quality 
and quantity, for nine days, without any variation. 
Suffering from hunger, however, was not the only 
annoyance. The abundance of vermin scarcely per- 
mitted us to rest day or night. The building was 
"alive" with them — every crack and crevice filled — 
working with these disgusting insects. They lodged in 
our clothing, in our hair and whiskers, making a con- 
tinual war upon us; and, in spite of our best efforts, 
they maintained the mastery. Only those who have 
endured the torments vermin inflict can imagine the 
punishment and misery they brought upon us. How 
often we reverted to the clean linen and snow-white 
bedding we had been accustomed to in our com- 
fortable homes, and contrasted it with our present 
wretched- condition. 

Under such circumstances, the sick and wounded 
could hope for no comfort. Many a poor fellow 
could have been saved from the "dead trench" had 
he received even the treatment due a man in robust 



35 



health ; but food, medicine, and the care necessary to 
a sick man, were never dispensed at the "Libby." 
Death was often hastened by the misery incident to 
the horrible condition of the place, and even the most 
sturdy constitutions became shattered. 



CHAPTER VII. 

A MOVE FOR ANDERSONVILLE — INCIDENTS OF THE 
PASSAGE — INHUMANITY OF THE REBELS — WOMAN'S 
SYMPATHY. 

On the 22d of June, about 3 o'clock in the morning, 
we were ordered to pack up, which was no very 
hard job, and received a scanty supply of provi- 
sions previous to leaving the scene of our misery. 
Soon we were on the move, and as we marched 
through the streets of Richmond, I felt a happy 
relief while breathing the pure air of heaven. All 
seemed delighted to make an escape from present 
ills, though apprehensive that we were only "jumping 
out of the frying pan into the fire." 

We marched to the Richmond and Danville Rail- 
road Depot, got aboard the cars, and started for 
Danville, on our way to that soldier's sepulchre, 
Andersonville Prison. Seventy of us were packed 
in a light baggage car, and the reader can imagine 
the acute suifering we endured, traveling in a box 
car, so closely stowed, in the month of June. At 
Danville we received an apology for rations, and took 
the train there for our destination. 

We had a number of poor fellows on board who 
were fast sinking under these cruelties, three of whom 



37 

died. Others were hanging between life and death, 
and had they died on the passage they would have 
been saved a more agonizing death. There was one 
invalid in our car who had been badly wounded in 
the hand, which was shattered in a horrible manner, 
and was then in process of mortification. He was 
fevered, and sufi*ering all the agony incident to a 
neglected wound. The poor fellow's constant cry 
for water excited the sympathy of all in the car, but 
not a drop could be obtained. Indeed, there were 
others craving water, who would have paid any price, 
had they possessed the means, for sufficient to slake 
their intolerable thirst. 

In course of time the train reached a station, where 
a stop was made to take in water, and I ventured to 
ask of the guard permission to get the sick man a 
drink, stating that he was very ill; but I received 
no answer. The man still crying for water in such 
piteous tones, I once more approached the guard and 
made another appeal. 

"Guard," said I, "for God's sake let me get that 
poor fellow some water. He is wounded badly and 
cannot live long." 

"Don't you know we ain't 'lowed to talk to you? 

What in are you doing here, you g d 

Yankee? What business you got here, anyhow?" 

This was the reply; and that inhuman wretch 
denied me the privilege of alleviating the torture of 
a dying man, for he breathed his last on the train. 



38 

The first sympatliy manifested for us, strange to 
say, was noticed in South Carolina. If I mistake 
not, the place was called Pleasant Mills. I was 
standing close to the guards, watching for an oppor- 
tunity to quench my violent thirst, when I saw a 
young girl, very plainly attired, standing on an 
embankment close to the cars. I at length caught 
her eye, and, addressing her, begged her to dip me 
up some water from a small pool lying close to the 
road. 

"Why," said she, "that is not fit to drink." 

"Oh, that will do. I am nearly famished for 
water. Please fill my measure." 

"I will get you better water than that," she said, 
and started toward the house. In a very short time 
she returned with two others, each carrying a pail of 
pure spring water. They soon dealt it out to us, 
and again went to the spring and refilled them. 
These noble-hearted girls kept on with their work of 
mercy until the cars started, when the heartfelt 
gratitude of the men burst out in blessings which, I 
trust, they have fully realized. Some of my com- 
panions had a few rings and other trifles secreted 
about them, and threw them to the girls. I had 
nothing but thanks to ofi'er, and these I expressed in 
the best language I could command. Certainly, I 
never felt the inconvenience of poverty more than 
on that occasion. 

The rebels, however, seemed to care but little for 



89 

the life, health or comfort of their prisoners. Indeed, 
we question if history presents a parallel to their 
brutality in any war between civilized nations. Few 
conflicts exhibit the same deo;ree of intense hatred 
and personal ill-feeling as that which was displayed 
during the rebellion. At one of the stations on our 
route some of the men were permitted to get out to 
answer the necessary purposes of life, but, of course, 
under the eye of the guard. One old man, far 
beyond the legal limit of a soldier's age, and much 
enfeebled by the hardships he had encountered, was 
somewhat tardy, and when he reached the cars they 
were in motion. He tried to get on, but his best 
efforts failed, and, after clinging to the car for some 
time, fell off. The guard deliberately leveled his 
piece and fired. The old man dropped dead, and 
could scarcely know what killed him, as we did not 
see a limb or muscle move. 

On a Sabbath afternoon we reached Savannah, 
where we laid over all night. We stopped in the 
suburbs of the city, and throngs of people were con- 
tinually coming and going — manifesting great desire 
to see the "Yanks." Among the visitors was an 
elderly lady, accompanied by a little child — perhaps 
a grand-daughter — eating a piece of bread. A squad 
of us were standing together, inside of the guards, 
when they approached. One of the men asked the 
child for a piece of bread. She immediately threw 



40 

the piece in her hand toward us. The guard, in a 
very rough manner, exclaimed— 

*'If you do that again I will arrest you." 

^'I don't care," replied the little lump of humanity, 
"if anybody is hungry I will give them bread when 
I have it." 

The old lady left at once ; but in about half an 
hour she returned with a basket. Taking a position 
opposite us she watched an opportunity, when she threw 
the basket and contents at us. It contained four 
loaves of bread, a quantity of cooked eggs, a lot of 
potatoes and a piece of bacon. The guard flew into 
a violent passion and raved immoderately at the old 
lady. She fearlessly retorted, however, and in a 
brogue that told us we were indebted to a warm Irish 
heart for the welcome food: 

"An' shure, wud yez like to be starvin' yer own self, 
and not a piece to stay the hunger? Yez ought to 
be wid 'em, and have a taste of the tratement ye give 
'em." 

Our profuse thanks seemed to be a rich reward for 
the kind-hearted old lady; and the eagerness with 
which we clutched her precious gift, must have con- 
vinced her that it was a timely charity. 

Our guards were very severe upon us, and would 
not permit any of the traders, at the different stopping 
places, to approach us. Some of these had corn 
bread and other articles of food for sale, which several 
who had secreted money about them would have 



41 

purchased at any price. But I will not longer dwell 
upon the painful incidents connected with our pass age. 
1/et me live to what age I may, I shall never revert 
to them without a shudder. 

I have purposely alluded to the kind offices per- 
formed by the ladies mentioned in this chapter, because 
of the vindictive spirit so generally manifested by 
Southern women against Union soldiers. The ex- 
ceptions alluded to, however, were to be found in the 
humbler walks of life. Those of the "chivalry" 
standard often disgraced the sex by bestowing upon 
us scoffs, jeers, and applying epithets which indicated 
anything but refinement. 



CHAPTER VIII. . 

ANDERSONVILLE — ^THE PRISON PEX — CAPTAIN WIRZ — 
A SCENE OF MISERY. 

We reached Andersonville about the 28th of June. 
We were all elated with the impression that we were 
going to far more comfortable quarters, since one 
of the guards relieved our apprehensions by stating 
that it was a fine plantation. Now, my idea of a 
plantation pictured a magnificent building, with ample 
shade around it, and a number of adjoining buildings, 
particularly adapted to our accommodation; but what 
was my astonishment to see in the distance a large 
space of ground inclosed by a stockade, without a 
single tree in the inclosure, surrounded by a forest 
as far as the eye could see. 

We were marched from the station to a building 
overlooking the pen. Over the main entrance was a 
pine board, with the following announcement: "Cap- 
tain Wirz, Commander of the Inner Prison." We 
halted before this building, where we were compelled 
to remain in the broiling sun for two hours, suffering 
intense agony from thirst; at the end of that time the 
notorious Wirz made his appearance, and saluted us 
in a broad German accent: "Fall in, you got tarn 

Yankee s of b s." He was a Swiss, however, 

a fact since learned during his trial. 



43 

What a disgrace to a sister Republic ! What a libel 
upon an ancestry whose noble deeds adorn the pages 
of history, that such a monster should claim birth- 
right in the land of Tell ! It is to be regretted that 
the proud traits of a nation, which assimilates so 
closely to our own, and which, at one time, com- 
manded the admiration of the world, should be so 
wholly lost sight of in the present century. Tyranny 
and treason, unfortunately, can always find hirelings 
in the degenerate sons of a once noble race. But I 
am digressing. 

"Captain" Wirz formed us into detachments of 
270, and divided that number into three messes of 90 
each. My' detachment was the 72d, and I was placed 
in the first mess. We were then ushered into the 
pen. I shall never forget the heart-sinking and utter 
despair which came over me when this broad scene of 
misery was first opened to my view. It was enough 
to appal the stoutest heart. We found a mass of 
human beings crowded together, almost a jam, with 
scarcely space enough to move about or lie down. ' 

Although the pen was originally designed to hold 
but 10,000 men, I found about 22,000 in it. And 
such a collection of emaciated, squalid creatures I 
never beheld. Scarcely one of them wore a whole 
garment, none had a complete suit, the most of them 
could not hide their nakedness, and not a few of them 
were in a perfectly nude state. It would be impossible 
for me to represent to the reader the horrors of this 



44 

scene just as I saw it. Men were crawling and creep- 
ing from slieer starvation, unable to stand erect. 
Others moved about with ghost-like appearance — their 
hollow cheeks, sunken eyes and tottering steps de- 
noting their rapid approach to the grave or pit — for 
there was no Christian burial there. Wherever I 
turned misery stared me in the face — starvation was 
doing its work. And yet thousands of these victims 
had left comfortable homes, where they enjoyed full 
and plenty. 

I was, for a time, completely bewildered — scarcely 
knowing whether I was awake or dreaming. Involun- 
tarily I asked myself the question: "Is this hell?" 
Twenty-two thousand human beings, at one time 
hearty, stalwart men, now reduced to this condition 
by that inhuman " Commander of the Inner Prison," 
who was no doubt carrying out the orders of his 
superiors. I am unwilling to believe that the rebel 
authorities were cognizant of the real condition of 
their prison pens ; but I do accuse them of giving to 
such monsters as Wirz unlimited license to treat the 
men as their passions or prejudices dictated. That 
such unfeeling wretches should abuse this power was 
to be expected. 



CHAPTER IX. 

INCIDENTS OF PRISON LIFE — THE CARTEL — THE 
"DEAD LINE." 

We had scarcely entered the pen, when we were sur- 
rounded by crowds of poor fellows, anxious to learn 
how the war was progressing, and especially to glean 
some tidings of an exchange of prisoners. It was 
the hope, from day to day, that an exchange would 
be eifected, which sustained many, and enabled them 
to live through the trials, exposure and starvation of 
prison life. But for this, thousands would have 
yielded to despair, and ceased to make an effort to 
preserve life. 

And here let me say that, whoever was the cause 
of suspending the cartel, or preventing an exchange 
of .prisoners, has a fearful account to settle. When 
men were dying by thousands, it was no time to cavil 
or stand upon a point of military etiquette. The 
government was not wholly ignorant of our suffer- 
ings, and could not have been humiliated by any 
concessions calculated to rescue these brave men 
from a slow and torturing death. If there is policy 
in war, there is also policy in mercy, whether dis- 
pensed according to discipline or not; and it is due 
to the brave men who endured all the horrors of 



46 

Southern prisotis, tliat the nation tlieT so nohlv 
served should place itself at>ove suspicion in a 
matter vhich ent^iiled so much of de^th and misery 
npon OUT gallant soldiers. 

I fortnnatelv met T»rith a member of the regiment 
to ivhich I belonged> and he secured me a place to lie 
down. I needed rest, and it vas a most gracious 
relief, even there, as I was "vrearT and nearly ex- 
hausted. My comrade gave me a detailed account 
of the rule^ and regulations which governed the 
in closure, and called my special attention to a little 
rail-line, some twenty feet from the stockade. ^''As 
you value your life,'" said he, *'do not step hetween 
that and the stockade. It u the dead line,'^ He 
also cautioned me against a gang of raiders, com- 
posed of our own men, who would rob and murder a 
man for ten cents. 

I soon realized the value of this la^ caution. A 
companion of mine who had entered the pen with 
me, having no place to sleep, was compelled to lay 
down with some others on the only space left for a 
wagon road. He had not lain there long, when he 
was seized hy the hair of the head and a knife held 
to his throat, while a fellow soldier rifled his pockets 
of the little money he possessed. A number of such 
cases occurred, and so frequent became these out- 
rages, that it was found necessary to adopt prompt 
and severe measures to check the evil. Accordingly, 
six offenders, who had just participated in a very 



47 

aggravated assault and robbery, were apprehended by 
ourown men. They were tried in the most impartial 
manner under the circumstances, condemned, and 
sentenced to be hung. This sentence was carried 
into effect on the 11th day of July, 1864. After that 
we had comparative peace, and felt more secure. At 
least, no more murders were committed, and few, if 
any, robberies. 

I know that some may pronounce this a summary 
proceeding; but I consider that the necessities aris- 
ing from our peculiar situation demanded it. Some 
22,000 men were there huddled together — victims of 
every species of privation, and driven to despair. 
With phrensied minds and craving appetites, every 
latent feeling of selfishness was awakened into 
activity. Conscience was blunted by suffering, and 
the love of life destroyed all scruples in regard to 
the means of preserving it. In this condition, it is 
not surprising that they should prey upon one 
another. And yet, it was absolutely necessary to 
check such lawlessness as the only means of protect- 
ing the weak against the strong; and where so many 
were packed, it was apparent that all must suffer, 
unless the most rigid discipline was maintained, and 
the evil-disposed restrained by proper punishment. 

In the meantime, an addition to the stockade was 
in course of construction. When that was com- 
pleted, my detachment, with a number of others, 
were removed to the new inclosure. Our rations 



48 

were dealt out here rather more liberally than in 
Libby Prison, but in quality about the same. They 
grew less, however, week after week, until they came 
down to the Libby measure. 

I would, were it possible, describe some of the 
horrors of this pen of death; but I confess myself 
inadequate to the task. Neither my powers of 
description, nor my command of language, can do 
the subject justice. My best efforts can only give a 
vague idea of the reality. 

It is proper to state that I had charge of the sick 
of my mess, comprising ninety men. When there 
was a doctor's call, I took such of the sick out as 
were able to walk, and those entirely disabled I had 
placed upon stretchers. It was on such occasions 
that I could see, in a clear light, the suffering and 
slow murder of the men. The most of them were 
mere frames — a batch of bones hung together like 
skeletons in a medical college, — but exhibiting suffi- 
cient animation to give them, if possible, a more 
ghostly appearance. 

Many of these poor fellows were afflicted with 
offensive sores. Different portions of the body and 
limbs were eaten out, and maggots were working 
thick in the cavities. In some cases gangrene set 
in, and mortification followed. There were no means 
at hand to wash and cleanse the parts thus affected, 
and men were wasting away and dying in the most 
loathsome condition. Groans and shrieks, curses and 



49 

prayers, the ravings of delirium, and agonizing cries, 
mingled in one confused chorus, and served to drown 
the murmurs of those less boisterous in their com- 
plaints. 

At first I thought it impossible to exist in the 
midst of such horrors; but I soon became familiarized 
with the misery around me, and learned to look upon 
those suffering most acutely with almost stoical indif- 
ference. Nothing more than such scenes is better 
calculated to deaden and render inactive the refined 
sensibilities of our nature. The soldier learns to 
look upon carnage unmoved, the surgeon amputates 
with more concern for his professional reputation 
than sympathy for his patients, and a nurse, in this 
den of woe, performs his duties mechanically, with 
but little exhibition of feeling for those in his care. 
I do not claim to be an exception wholly; but, while 
I strived to do all I could for the sick in my charge, 
I soon overcame the feelings of depression awakened 
when I first assumed the position. Then, it must be 
remembered, that we looked upon the sick and dying 
as only a step in advance of us, and that we must soon 
travel the same road to our long home. But while 
thus apparently insensible to all emotion, every act 
of kindness that could alleviate pain, or render the 
sick more comfortable, was cheerfully performed. 

fn this connection, I feel it a duty to allude to the 
kind and humane feelings manifested by Drs. Rice, 
Bates and Holmes. Dr. Rice, especially, is entitled 
3 



50 

to my warraest thanks for words of clieer and profes- 
sional advice. TWs was all he could give, as he had 
no means of obtairiing medicine for us, and would not 
be permitted to administer it if he had. But his was 
a sympathizing heart, and he encouraged and gave 
hope to the desponding. The three gentlemen named 
will long be remembered with gratitude by those who 
survived the perils of that prison-pen. Truly, "kind 
words never die." 

As sergeant of the sick of our mess, I had all the 
most hopeless cases to attend to. Disease and misery, 
in all its forms, was constantly before me, and few 
men, in the same space of time, ever witnessed more 
of human suffering. One unfortunate invalid, Wm. 
Thompson, a member of the Third Massachusetts 
Regiment, was an object of my especial sympathy. 
He was daily wasting away, and was conscious that he 
could not survive many days. He grew despondent, 
then indiiferent, and apparently patiently awaited 
the summons of the grim messenger. Too soon, 
however, he manifested certain indications of insanity. 
He would sit or lie in one place day after day, unless 
removed. " Oh, sergeant, can you do nothing for 
me?" was the question he constantly propounded. I 
could only furnish him with water, and give him such 
words of encouragement as occurred to my mind. I 
obtained no information from him in regard to his 
family, except that his parents resided in Massachu- 
setts. He soon became a passive, quiet idiot, and 



51 

talked occasionally about his father and mother, but 
so incoherently that I could glean nothing definite. 
The poor fellow lingered about two weeks after he 
became delirious before he died. Like many others, 
he was literally covered with vermin. I was much 
interested in Thompson, and sought every oppor- 
tunity to get some intelligent statement from him, 
that I might transmit it to "the loved ones at home," 
but in vain. 

To give some idea of our filthy surroundings, I 
will state that a small brook coursed through the 
stockade, and a cook-house stood near it. The 
encampment of the rebel guards bordered on this little 
stream, outside of the pen. All the oifal and- refuse 
of the cook-house, and, more disgusting still, the 
filth and excrement, daily deposited, was carried off 
by this small run of water. Yet, for some time after 
1 arrived, we were compelled to drink, cook and wash 
with it. In fact, it was used for all purposes, until 
wells were subsequently excavated. 

Inside of the stockade there was about six acres 
of swamp ; that was used as a common sink by 
40,000 men, for the pen was now greatly enlarged. 
The quality of .the water may be estimated when the 
reader is informed that every offensive substance, 
accumulating from this large number of men, was 
drained into the stream, from which we had to 
use it for all purposes. In order to obtain a dipper 
of water more pure, some of them would reach over 



52 

the "dead line" in search of a clearer spot in the 
brook. But such rashness seldom failed to bring the 
punishment of .death. 

As I approached the stream one morning, I saw 
a poor creature staggering on ahead of me, with 
nothing on him but the remnant of an old shirt. 
The swamp was very soft and miry, and any person^ 
stepping oiF the plank would mire in it. It was 
loathsome and offensive in the extreme. Suddenly I 
heard the report of a gun. I saw the poor fellow 
leel, totter and fall. He was pierced through his 
entire body with a rifle ball. Being weak and feeble, 
he Avas in danger of falling off the plank, and came 
so near it once that he incautiously leaned on the 
"dead line" for support until he recovered himself. 
This is the crime for which he was shot down like a 
dog. 

In the stream alluded to, those who were able 
washed their persons. On one occasion, after I had 
gone through this process, I saw a member of the 
Twelfth Pennsylvania Cavalry shot through the breast 
while in the act of reaching over the "dead line " for 
his shirt. He had accidentally dropped it over, and 
in his efforts to regain it was instantly shot down. 

I came very near paying the same penalty for my 
rashness in unnecessarily exposing myself. The 
rebels were doing some repairs on the stockade, and 
were chopping down some trees for that purpose. 
The chips were flying around in various directions 



53 

between the stockade and the "dead line," and I 
incautiously stooped to pick one up. Casting my 
eyes toward the guard, I saw him cover me with his 
rifle. I w^as too quick for him, however, so I lost 
my chip and he his furlough; for it was generally 
understood, that for every Yankee shot, his murderer 
received thirty days' furlough. While I cannot vouch 
for the truth of this, I do know that the guard was 
invariably relieved after shooting a prisoner. 

And here it may be proper to give a description of 
the stockade. It consisted of very large pine trees, 
about twenty-six feet high, set perpendicular in the 
ground about six feet deep, and placed closely to- 
gether. About twenty feet from the stockade was a 
small rail or post fence about three feet high. This 
was the celebrated dead line. It was covered over 
on the top, making a shelter for the guards, who 
were stationed about thirty yards apart. 

My anxiety to obtain the chips, was occasioned by 
the scarcity of fuel to cook the miserable and scant 
food furnished us. We were allowed two large sticks 
of cord-wood, which we cut up in small pieces, as that 
quantity had to last three days for ninety men. This 
stinted supply was the more aggravating, because 
wood was abundant in the vicinity. Dense forests 
surrounded the inclosure, and yet we were denied 
enough to cook "corn dodgers," (a term given to a 
mixture of coarse corn meal and water.) We were 
in the condition of the shipwrecked mariner, clinging 



54 

to a plank, with water all around him, but could not 
use it. 

It was evident that the leading rebels deliberately 
fixed upon plans to exterminate, to a certain extent, 
their prisoners; and I have always believed that this 
work of death was planned in Richmond, and carried 
out by that abominable butcher — Wirz. Hunger 
and thirst were the two great agencies to be used ; 
and these, added to nakedness and exposure, did 
their work most effectually. 

Our rations mostly consisted of one pin^ of Indian 
meal per day. This was ground very nearly as 
coarse as hominy, with the cob, hulls and all ground 
up together. I undertook, on several occasions, to 
separate the hulls and the cobs from the meal, but I 
found it made my allowance so small that I desisted, 
and only culled out the large pieces of the cob. To 
the pint of corn meal was added two ounces of bacon,' 
two spoonsful of beans, and about as much salt as 
you could hold on the handle of a spoon. That was 
to sustain life for twenty-four hours. The quality of 
the bacon was often such as to sicken those who 
looked upon it; yet, we were glad to get it. Think 
of it! And then reflect that, with this scanty 'sub- 
sistence, 40,000 men were huddled together in a pen, 
packed so close that we had scarcely room for roll- 
call. But enough of this pen of horrors. I left 
14,000 — 800 of them my comrades — in the cold 
embrace of death, their bones reposing in ditches or 



55 

trenches, thrown together as though they were of the 
brute creation. 

I could cite numerous instances of this kind, but 
the details are too sickening, and would only pain me 
to rehearse them, wdiile they could afford no pleasure 
to the reader. It is as lamentable as true, however, 
that a number who had abandoned all hope of 
deliverance, borne down by disease and starvation, 
deliberately stepped over the "dead line," and 
courted death, in order to escape the torment and 
suffering they were enforced to endure. The shooting 
of men stepping one foot over that line was so common 
that it ceased to attract attention, or to create sur- 
prise. As soon as the report of a gun was heard, the 
general expression was, "another man paroled." 

I now began to realize that I was m a very critical 
condition. My shoes had dropped from my feet per- 
fectly worthless. I was growing weaker every day, 
and sometimes I thought I should sink down and die 
in my tracks. My pantaloons were fast wearing 
out, and I was compelled to cut off the legs below 
the knee to patch other parts, in order to cover my 
nakedness. I was bare-legged, bare-headed, and 
bare-footed; for my hat was so much worn that it 
was no longer a covering for my head. I obtained 
the tail of a regulation coat from my companion, and 
made three scull-caps out of it, of which I retained 
one, and partially remedied this difficulty. All this 
time we were exposed to the heat of a Southern sun 
in midsummer. 



CHAPTER X. 

THE CHANCES OF ESCAPE CONSIDERED — THE ATTEMPT 
MADE — A FAILURE — CAUGHT IN THE ACT. 

It was about this time that I began to entertain 
serious thoughts of escape. I felt that I was dying 
by inches, and as the chances of life began to grow 
less, the more earnestly I yearned for wife, children, 
home and friends. I had left behind me four dear 
little boys — the oldest only seven years of age — and 
the thought of leaving my wife a widow, and my 
children orphans, was truly harrowing. I felt con- 
tent to die if I could die at home. I would sit by 
the hour and revert to almost every act and word 
spoken by my wife. The childish pranks and prattle 
of my boys would come as fresh to the memory as 
though I had parted from them yesterday. It was a 
relief thus to recall the hours of domestic happiness 
I once enjoyed, and these reflections only made me 
more determined to see them once more, or die in the 
attempt. 

I therefore set about some plan of deliverance. 
While these thoughts occupied my mind, I became 
intimate with a Tennesseean, to whom I broached 
the subject, and we soon found nine others who were 
willing to make the attempt. We frequently con- 



57 

suited about the best mode of operating, and finally 
came to the conclusion to tunnel under the stockade. 

Wells were being dug within the inclosure at the 
time, with the hope of obtaining a better supply of 
water. While this work was going on, we com- 
menced operations in a little shanty our leader had 
erected for himself — a rare luxury, that few enjoyed, 
and which must have cost him a pretty handsome 
sum. This was in close proximity to the well- 
diggers, and gave us an opportunity to place our 
dirt, under cover of night, on the heap thrown out 
by the diggers. Thus secure from observation, we 
worked faithfully, day and night, taking turns. Our 
only tools consisted of an old shovel, or part of a 
shovel, and a haversack, in which we removed the 
dirt. We w^orked hard, and at the end of three 
weeks, had extended our tunnel outside of the stock- 
ade. We were buoyant — almost happy — at the 
bright promise before us, and each felt sanguine of 
success. 

One morning, however, perhaps only a day before 
we intended to make the venture, a rebel soldier with 
some six negroes, entered the shanty, apparently fully 
apprised of our plans, although we had taken great 
pains to conceal everything calculated to excite sus- 
picion. Tlie mouth, or entrance to the tunnel, was 
carefully covered up every time we left it. They at 
once removed the covering, and the evidence of our 
3* 



58 

guilt was before them. Of course, the shanty was 
stripped forthwith. 

There we were, caught in the act. A rebel spy 
had betrayed us, but who, we never knew. We knew 
not what would be the consequences, or what would 
be the punishment. We consoled ourselves with the 
reflection, however, that they could devise none, 
except death, that would be more severe than the 
suffering we endured from day to day. But, strange 
to say, we heard but little of it afterward. Thus, 
the labor of three weeks was lost to us, and our 
hearts sank within us as our hopes of freedom fled. 

Still, we did not abandon all thoughts of escape. 
About the latter part of July, they commenced the 
erection of a stockade about one hundred feet from 
the main one, so that put a stop to our tunneling. 
In the meantime, the mortality was increasing fear- 
fully. Each day as high as two hundred, and some- 
times two hundred and thirty, were released from 
their sufferings by death. The carnage of battle, 
the worst form of pestilence, never equalled it. 
Fevers, unhealed wounds, sores,*gangrene, and every 
disease incident to heat, storm and exposure, added 
to starvation, kept up the sick list to a high figure. 
Indeed, many of them welcomed death as a friend. 
It was a common occurrence to wake up in the morn- 
ing and find a corpse beside the living. 

But, there were others who struggled hard for life. 
They would speak of wife, children, parents and 



59 

kindred, in the most piteous tones; and it was truly 
distressing to see men who had faced the cannon's 
mouth unflinchingly, cry like children, as they felt 
conscious that they never would look upon their dear 
old homes again. For my own part, I began to 
grow reckless of life as the pangs of hunger 
increased, and I pondered upon a choice between 
death by starvation or death from an attempt to 
escape. 



CHAPTER XL 

OTTR REMOVAL TO FLORENCE — FALLACIOUS HOPES. 

About this time, we learned that the noble Sher- 
man began to menace Atlanta, and that General 
Stoneman had a force -which would attempt our 
rescue. Too soon we lost all hope of deliverance 
from this expedition, as we were informed that he 
and his forces were captured. Again we were 
cheered by the news that General Sherman had cap- 
tured Atlanta, and rumors of exchange went from 
lip to lip, inspiring new hope, and acting like elec- 
tricity upon the spirits of the men. This was the 
burden of our song night and day. Lying down on 
the hard ground at night, or rising with aching limbs 
and hungry stomachs in the morning, we discussed 
the probabilities of an exchange. 

Thus time passed, our condition growing from bad 
to worse. Our hopes alternated as one report died 
out and another one reached us, of a speedy 
exchange. Again it came; but this time in a more 
tangible shape, — as we received orders to move. 
Every heart leaped with joy, every eye sparkled 
with delight. Oh, it was a joyous time! The dying 
prayed for life, the sick and desponding revived, the 
weak grew stronger. All was bustle and activity. 
The prisoners were taken out by detachments. I 



61 

went with the 32d. With a buoyant heart I turned 
mj back upon that den of misery, in the full assur- 
ance from the guards that we were to be exchanged; 
and I already began to anticipate a happy meeting 
with my wife and children. We took the cars for 
Macon in high glee, having been first supplied with what 
they termed two days of rations, but not sufficient to 
make one hearty meal, and the quality about as 
before described. We laid over all night at Macon. 
Next morning we started on our journey, crossing 
the Savannah River, and soon got into South Caro- 
lina. We halted at a station, when an officer came 
to the guards and gave orders to permit no man to 
get out of the cars, and to shoot any one who made 
the attempt. 

We arrived at Florence, after being two days and 
nights on the journey, with nothing to eat, save the 
two rations before mentioned, and nearly starved. 
Here we learned, to our amazement, that no exchange 
would take place. All our hopes were frustrated ; and 
the reaction from the highest expectations to utter 
despair, left us in a most wretched condition, men- 
tally as well as physically. 

We were ushered into a pen, where we found some 
5,000 of our comrades, and received some rations, 
which were greedily devoured. Many of us hoped 
that our stay at Florence would be short, and con- 
soled ourselves with the belief that our journey to 
this place was but preliminary to a speedy exchange; 
but time served to banish this delusion. 



CHAPTER XII. 

ANOTHER PLAN OF ESCAPE — WE RESOLVE TO ''RUN 
THE guards" — -THE FLIGHT — BLOODHOUNDS ON 
OUR TRACK— PERILS OF OUR SITUATION — THEY 
LOSE OUR TRAIL. 

It would be a difficult task to picture the despair 
which now overwhelmed me. I could no longer cover 
my nakedness with the few rags on my person, and 
my strength was fast wasting away. What to do I 
did not know. I felt that if I made the attempt to 
escape, I must do so while I had strength for exer- 
tion. A few more days of suffering would render 
me helpless, and death could not long be delayed. I 
consulted with a friend about "running the guards;'' 
for I saw they were building a new stockade, which 
would materially lessen the chances of successful 
flight. But that experiment was declared to be cer- 
tain death. 

At length I found a man named Bradley, of 
the 90th Illinois regiment — whom I fixed upon as a 
suitable companion, and one whom I could trust with 
the dangerous proposition. After consulting with 
him upon the subject, I remarked — 

"Frank, I feel that I cannot live long. I am 
sinking fast — what plan of escape can you suggest?" 



63 

"I scarcely know," he replied; "cannot we sneak 
out?" 

*^No — impossible!" 

"True — we are encircled with guards." 

^'Well, let us run the gauntlet." 

"That is dangerous — one chance for life, three for 
death." 

"Frank, it is certain death to go into that stock- 
ade. I say run the gauntlet — liberty or death." 

"I'm in," said he — (an expression among soldiers 
denoting hearty assent.) 

We accordingly made preparations to "make a 
dash," as opportunity presented. There was a 
double line of guards about one hundred yards from 
the first line. Our plan was to run before the double 
line was posted, which duty was generally performed 
about dark. It was a critical moment to both of us. 
We knew that the odds were decidedly against suc- 
cess, and that failure was certain death ; but sooner 
than endure the misery of longer imprisonment, we 
resolved to make the venture. 

We went to the lines and scrutinized the guards. 
It was arranged that a few friends, to whom our 
secret was confided, should also come to the lines, 
and scatter themselves, in order to prevent suspicion. 
Just about dusk, we approached the spot we had 
selected for a "bolt," near which we carelessly 
loitered for a short time, and saw the outer guards 
taking post. And now the terrible moment arrived. 



64 

At a given signal from my friend, we darted through 
the lines between the guards. 

Almost simultaneously we heard the command, 
"Halt!" and the report of a rifle. The ball cut my 
old pants, or what was left of them, above the knee 
grazing the flesh, but drawing no blood. The out- 
ward line of guards were very near us, and fired 
upon us, but not a single shot took eff'ect. Away we 
sped, hatless, shoeless, and nearly naked. Fear 
gave speed to our flight, for well we knew it was a 
struggle between life and death. 

We made for the railroad, the track of which was 
in a cut some ten feet deep. This was reached in 
safety, and we got down the embankment with little 
difiiculty, but I was too week to ascend the other 
side, and my companion, who was much stronger, 
because not long a prisoner, readily assisted me up, 
after running along the track some distance to find a 
more convenient place. I was so weak that this 
exertion almost exhausted my strength, and had not 
Frank pulled me up, I must have been captured. 

We entered a cornfield on a run, and when about 
the centre of it, Frank paused to look back. I 
heard him exclaim, "My God, they are after us!" 
I gave a hurried glance backward, and could see the 
outline of a squad of pursuers hurrying over the 
fence. We both dropped to the earth, and lay in a 
prostrate position in a furrow. While hiding our- 
selves as best we could, we heard them tramping all 



65 

around us, and expected every moment to see a 
muzzle pointed toward us. We thought our time 
had come. In a few minutes I heard one of them 
interrogate another — 

"Which way have they gone?" 

"They must have passed this spot, or very near 
it," was the reply. 

They could not have been ten yards from us when 
this conversation was going on. However, they passed 
us, and went off in a northerly direction. About 
this time, when the sound of their footsteps had 
scarcely died in the distance, we heard the bay of 
bloodhounds, and knew they were upon the track. 
Oh, what a terrifying sound to fleeing fugitives! 
Quick as thought I pictured to myself a most horri- 
ble death, and expected to be torn in pieces by those 
ravenous brutes; for I am told they are allowed but 
scanty food in order to make them more desperate in 
pursuit. Rather would I have heard the report of 
rifles than the dreadful warning sent out by these 
savage dogs. I involuntarily exclaimed, "Heaven 
help us, Frank; it is life or death now." 

We ran to the cover of what seemed to be a large 
forest, in front of us, but it proved to be a dense 
SAvamp, — my companion passing me a little to the 
left. As soon as possible, I ascended a tree for 
safety, and, although apparently secure from imme- 
diate attack, still my heart sank within me, as I 
heard the bloodhound bay growing more and more 



6Q 

distinct, and rapidly nearing me ; for I knew if they 
once laid eyes on me, they would hold me where I 
was until the guard came up. 

I cannot describe my feelings, as I clung to a pro- 
jecting limb, awaiting my doom. There I was, a 
poor, starved fugitive, a moving skeleton, weak and 
exhausted, some fifteen bloodhounds upon my trail, 
and a horrible death awaiting me, if able to reach my 
person, — or death by a bullet, if caught by the 
guards. It was to me a period of rapid thought, in 
which my wife and children, and their helpless con- 
dition, rose up before me in life-like colors. My 
dangerous situation brought out all my affectionate 
concern for those dear to me; and I felt it was hard 
to die such a death while making a last effort to 
embrace them once more. 

But God, in his mercy, came to my help. StiU 
holding on to the tree, and almost overcome with 
terror, I began to feel sure that the hounds had 
taken another direction, as the sound of their baying 
seemed to gradually recede. Soon, to my great joy, 
it became more indistinct, and I concluded they must 
have been thrown off my trail where I had waded 
through some water, and had followed that of the 
rebel guards. 

I returned thanks to Almighty God for my deliver- 
ance, and descended from the tree to search for my 
friend. This I did most thoroughly for some time, 
but without success. This misfortune was another 



67 

serious blow to my prospects of escape; for I felt 
very dependent upon Frank, from the fact that he 
had served with General Sherman, and would prove 
a valuable pilot, as we had previously arranged to 
strike for Tennessee. I confess his loss made me feel 
very despondent, aside from my deep concern for his 
safety. I knew not then, nor do I know now, 
whether he reached home and friends, or was 
butchered in cold blood by the pursuing guards. 
Sometimes the possibility of his being torn in pieces 
by the bloodhounds occurred to me; but sincerely do 
I hope that he escaped all peril by flood or field, 
bloodhounds or rebel guards. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

LIFE IN FOREST AND SWAMP — PRECAEIOUS SUBSIST- 
ENCE — HELP FROM AN UNEXPECTED SOURCE. 

Although thankful for my escape so far, I was 
oppressed by the worst apprehensions. I was quite 
ignorant of the country, without a compass, sur- 
rounded by enemies, alone in a dense swamp, my 
strength gone, possessing no facilities for cooking — 
even if I obtained food, — a thousand miles from 
home, and in a State where neither mercy or charity 
could be expected by a "man wearing the blue.'* 

I put my trust in God, to whom I appealed for 
aid, and struck out with all the resolution I could 
muster — taking the North star as my guide. I 
walked on until I reached a rice swamp, and soon 
after leaving that, found a sweet potatoc field, where 
I dug out a few and devoured them greedily. On — 
on I traveled, making every effort to leave as wide a 
distance as possible between my late quarters and 
myself. 

I traveled all that night faithfully, through swamps, 
woods, and sugar-cane fields, buoyed up by hope, 
rejoicing that the bloodhounds were no longer upon 
my track. About daybreak I discovered a house in 



69 

the distance, but deemed it prudent to give it a wide 
berth. I visited a neighboring cornfield, however, 
and gathered some corn, when I again took to the 
forest, and sought the most dense part of it, where I 
made a bed of leaves, eat some of the grain with 
great difficulty, laid down and slept all day, weary 
and fatigued, till toward evening. 

When I awoke, my limbs pained me very much. 
This was, no doubt, caused by over-exertion and 
general prostration. After dark, I again started on 
my journey, still looking to the North star as my 
guide. I traveled all that night, trying to subsist on 
corn, but my teeth had become loose, and my gums 
so very sore with scurvy, that I was unable to masti- 
cate it. I very much feared that if I could procure 
no substitute for corn, I should die of starvation. I 
then tried beans, which are cultivated quite as 
extensively at the South as corn. They are called 
peas by. the inhabitants, and constitute an essential 
article of food in that section ; but I found but little 
nutriment in them in their natural state. My suffer- 
ings from hunger soon became intolerable, and I felt 
myself growing weaker every hour. I kept to the 
woods, however, — eating berries and whatever I could 
find as a substitute for food. 

On the third day, I found myself in the vicinity of 
a plantation, and endeavored to have an interview 
with some of the negroes. For this purpose I 
loitered about the place all day, but had no opportu- 



70 

nity to communicate with any of them. While 
here, I found some grapes, which were not only 
palatable, but proved an excellent remedy for my 
sore gums. Footsore and weary, I once more 
resumed my journey after dark, and went on u^til I 
came to a magnificent pine forest. That night I 
suffered intense agony from hunger, and became so 
weak that I staggered like a drunken man. 

In all my travels that day, I had seen no signs of 
a human habitation — nothing that gave me any hope 
of procuring food. In my despair, I exclaimed 
aloud, "My God, shall I die of starvation in this 
forest?" Hunger seemed to overcome every other 
feeling, and I ceased to fear the consequences of a 
capture. I almost felt as if 'I could hail the rebel 
guards had they been in sight. Oh, what a long 
night! — what an endless forest! Day dawned, and 
found me still in it, tottering along with unsteady 
step until after sunrise, when I laid down by a tree. 

My feet and legs were badly scratched, bleeding 
and sm.arting with pain. My old clothes were in 
rags — torn almost in shreds by the underbrush — 
retaining barely sufficient to hide my nakedness. 

Altogether, I was a most emaciated, miserable- 
looking being. 

I had not rested more than fifteen minutes, how- 
ever, before I heard a very singular noise, similar to 
the screech of a peacock. I started up, at first sup- 
posing that it proceeded from some wild animal. 



71 

After listening a short time, I came to the conclusion 
that it was a human voice, and resolved to satisfy 
myself upon that point. Proceeding in the direction 
of the sound for about half a mile, I saw some- 
thing like a dwelling, in a clearing, but it presented 
a very dilapidated appearance. I slowly approached, 
and saw a man in a corn-crib. He would occasion- 
ally hollow at the top of his voice, making the noise 
before described, which is the usual manner down 
South of calling hogs in from the woods for the pur- 
pose of feeding them. 

As his back was toward me, I came quite near to 
him before he saw me. In a short time, however, he 
turned, and stared at me with a surprised look; for, 
I confess, I presented a very vrretched appearance; 
and, but for my wasted form and sad expression of 
countenance, I might have faithfully represented a 
strolling vagabond. He was a fine, noble looking 
man, about thirty years of age, rather indicating 
intelligence and dignity above his surroundings. I 
thought — and the wish may have been father to the 
thoug;ht — that his countenance manifested merciful 
instincts. I saluted him with — 

"Good morning, sir." 

He quickly jumped from the corn-crib, and took a 
seat upon the fence against which I was leaning. 
His reply was — 

"A Yank, eh?" 

"Yes, sir." 



*' Where did you come from?" 

"Florence, sir." 

"Any person with you?" 

"No, sir." 

"How long have you been out of prison?" 

"This is the morning of the fourth day, sir?" 

"What have you lived on?" 

"Principally on corn and peas?" 

*'What! three days on corn and peas?" 

"Yes, sir, — and a few berries." 

"You must be hungry?" 

"I am nearly starved to death. Are you a 
soldier?" 

"Yes;" — and rolling up his shirt sleeve, he 
exhibited a bad wound. "I served three years with 
Beauregard." 

"Then your term of service must be nearly out." 

"No; our term of service is never out while the 
w^ar continues." 

He then uttered the most violent invectives against 
Jeff. Davis, President Lincoln, and the negroes, 
closing with the remark, that "this was a rich man's 
war and a poor man's fight." 

In the meantime, his wife came out, and, survey- 
ing me from head to foot, as if determined to gratify 
her curiosity, addressed me in a very gentle tone of 
voice — 

"Is you what they calls a Yankee?" 

"Yes, madam." Then followed several questions 



73 

similar to those asked by the husband, which were 
answered as before; but she continued — 

"Did they shoot at you?" 

"Yes, madam;" and I exhibited the slight bruise 
on my leg, and the hole in the leg of my ragged 
pantaloons. The husband then asked — 

"Where are you going?" 

"I do not know. I am trying to get inside of our 
lines. If I could do so, I should soon reach home." 

"What route do you intend taking to reach 
them?" 

"I am really at loss, sir; for I know of none that 
would lead me to our army or my home." 

His companion then asked — 

" Have you a wife?" 

"Yes, madam, — and four children." 

"I would go home to them, if I could." 

"I am now making an effort to do so, madam." 

The husband inquired — "Did they give you any- 
thing like enough to eat in prison?" 

"No, sir." I then described our rations to him. 
They consulted together a few moments, when the 
wife informed me that she would get me some break- 
fast. 

"Oh, what joyous news to a starving man! A 
breakfast was something I had been a stranger to for 
nearly six months, and I know I looked the gratitude 
I could not utter, for I felt it. She entered the 
house— a very humble log cabin, evidently uncom- 
4 



74 

fortable compared to our Northern homes, and con- 
taining a very meagre supply of furniture, among 
which a loom, bedstead, table, and a few chairs, were 
the prominent articles. In the interval, the hus- 
band asked me many questions, all of which I 
answered frankly, and without hesitation. 

I was still uncertain what would be my fate after 
this meeting. I thought, from his studious and 
abstracted manner at times, that he was debating 
within himself what disposition to make of me; 
whether to return me to prison, or to suffer me to go 
on my way. I was encouraged, however, by his 
severe strictures upon the war, and the kindness of 
his wife, whose countenance betrayed a true womanly 
sympathy. But, I had suffered so much, that I was 
comparatively indifferent to my fate. 

Breakfast was soon announced, and I was invited 
to partake in that hearty, hospitable manner peculiar 
to the Southern people. The meal consisted of what 
we call, in the Southern States, Maryland biscuit— a 
most excellent cake — bacon and Confederate coffee, 
sweetened with sorghum molasses. " Help yourself," 
came Avith hearty good meaning from both of them ; 
but I was too ravenous to need pressing. I need not 
say how luscious, how gracious, the food was to me. 
The more I eat, the more my appetite seemed to 
crave; and although I knew it was dangerous, after 
long abstinence from food, to indulge so freely, it 
seemed as though I could not restrain my appetite. 



75 

The lady of the house sat opposite to me with a very 
interesting child in her arms; and I could see by the 
expression of her countenance that she was deeply 
affected. I ate until I paused from a sense of shame, 
observing which, she promptly said — 

"Eatj — help yourself, — I don't care if you eat 
everything on the table. Oh! what would your 
poor wife say, to see you in this condition!" and 
then gave vent to her feelings in a flood of tears — 
crying as though her heart was overburdened with 
grief. 

I was overwhelmed, and could only remain silent 
during this outburst of kind sympathy; for had I 
attempted to speak, I should have cried like a child. 
As it was, tears of sincere gratitude rolled down my 
cheeks. May God's choicest blessings abide with 
that humble but noble-hearted family. After the 
meal was finished, and when she became more com- 
posed, I returned thanks — (it was all I could do) — to 
both of them in the best language I could use, and 
no words ever came with more sincerity from human 
heart. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

AGAIN ON THE TRAMP — A RUSE — ANOTHER PERIOD OF 
SUFFERING AND PRIVATION. 

When I arose from the table I could scarcely 
stand. I had overdone the thing — eaten too much; 
but to me it had been a feast — a banquet, — such as 
the surfeited epicure never enjoyed at the Conti- 
nental or Astor. Although the coffee was made of 
burnt corn meal, it tasted sweeter than the best Java. 
I now joined the husband, with the hope of ascer- 
taining how he would dispose of me. He broached 
the subject by again asking me — 

''Which way are you going?" 

"I scarcely know, sir. It is my desire to reach 
Newbern, North Carolina. I think that is the 
nearest point toward our lines." 

"Very true; but Newbern is two hundred miles 
from here." 

"I should not care about the distance, were it not 
for the danger of being taken prisoner again." 

"Your best route is by the way of Cheraw. When 
there, get some negro to set you across the Pee Dee 
River, and when you get into North Carolina, you 
will find plenty of friends." 

Oh, what a relief this was to me. Had I possessed 



77 

a fortune, I could have laid it at his feet for this 
assurance of his friendship. I knew he could readily 
send me back to prison ; and although he had mani- 
fested kindness and sympathy for me, yet he might 
estimate his duty to the Confederacy paramount to 
every other feeling. And now I knew how much my 
suspicions had wronged my generous-hearted friend* 
He laid me under further obligations, by saying — "I 
wish I had some clothes to give you, but these I am 
now wearing are all I possess." 

And this from a rebel soldier, in the very hot-bed 
of secession! Such lanoruaoje — such kindness — was 
the more welcome, because entirely unexpected. 
The good wife now joined us, and my benefactor 
continued — 

''I will now hitch up my old horse to the buggy, 
and put you on the direct road ; but I do not want 
to get into trouble with any person I meet. I shall 
give such to understand that I am taking you to jail 
at Darlington Court House, some eighteen miles dis- 
tant. I cannot avoid passing two plantations on the 
route, and must resort to this ruse in order to divert 
suspicion. 

In the meantime, his good wife — God bless her ! — 
had provided a lot of biscuit for me, and apologised 
for what she considered dry eating, by saying they 
had consumed the last particle of meat at the morn- 
ing meal. Those acquainted with Southern character, 
know how reluctant they are to admit poverty, and 



78 

what extraordinary efforts they put forth to keep up 
appearances; but the impoverishments of war had 
wofully humbled the pride of the people. Thousands 
who had lived luxuriously, were glad to obtain the 
coarsest food, and many of them found it difficult to 
secure sufficient of that. The march of the rebel 
army scattered desolation in its track — leaving but 
little choice to the inhabitants, during the latter part 
of the struggle, between a visit from their own and the 
Union troops. Material for male and female apparel 
had also become very scarce, and the ladies, especially, 
found it no easy task to make a presentable appear- 
ance. I might devote a chapter to the melancholy, 
and often ludicrous, effects of war in this particular, 
which so severely taxed their ingenuity to conceal the 
general destitution ; but it is only necessary to state, 
that scenes of humiliation and mortification, from such 
causes, were of daily occurrence in almost every 
locality. 

After bidding the lady an affectionate farewell, 
and again repeating my thanks, we got into the car- 
riage and drove off, cheered by a hearty God-speed 
from that warm-hearted woman. 

We followed a narrow road through the woods for 
some time, and then came out to a fine road for that 
section of country. We pursued this road, until we 
came in sight of a house, to which my friend drove 
up, and commenced acting his part by calling to the 
inmates, in a loud voice— "Hello! Did you ever 



79 

see a live Yankee?" A very portly man came out 
and stood upon the portico, followed by a number of 
women and children. There were three of the 
former, and they inspected me very closely — mani_ 
Testing all the curiosity that could be awakened by 
the exhibition of some wild animal. 

"Where did you find him?" inquired the planter. 

"He came to my house this morning, nea,rly 
starved?" 

"Why, d n it, they suffer as bad as we do. 

Where are you taking him to?" 

"To Darlington Court House." 

"Well, — you'd better hurry up." 

"Have you a revolver?" asked my friend. 

"No. A revolver! Why that poor devil don't 
look as if he could get away from anybody." 

"Oh, you don't know these Yanks as well as I 
do. They are slippery fellows." 

The women and children hung around us until we 
started, apparently muck gratified at the sight of "a 
live Yank." 

We started on our journey, and traveled until we 
came to the next plantation, where my companion 
practiced the same deception. We went through a 
similar inspection, and answered pretty much the 
same questions. My friend asked for a revolver as 
before, with a like result, and passed on. 

As we approached the place of parting, he said 
— "I will soon put you upon a road that leads to 



80 

Cheraw, direct. As I before remarked, get some 
negroes to set you across the Pee Dee, and after that 
you will find many "who will sympathize with and assist 
you. Leave this stick and old rag in the wagon (a 
stick I used in traveling, and a wash-rag I kept to 
cleanse my person,) as I shall give them to under- 
stand you jumped out and ran away." 

He drove on about four miles further, and put me 
on the right road. I grasped his hand with the most 
lively gratitude, and poured forth my thanks; after 
which I once more turned my face toward the home 
I yearned to reach. 

When I first concluded to publish my narrative, I 
resolved to conceal the name of my benefactor, for 
fear of bringing persecution upon him; but, as time 
progressed, rapid changes took place in the senti- 
ments of the Southern people. They are now, with 
comparatively few exceptions, disposed to "accept 
the situation," however reluctantly, and are sufficiently 
tempered by adversity to tolerate, if not approve, what 
they would have condemned with great severity at that 
time; and, if otherwise, the means of protection to 
loyal men are so ample, that he can scarcely be made 
to sufi'er for his kindness. Aside from this, I am 
unwilling that he should lose the credit of an act 
which ought to command the respect and admiration 
of every lover of the Union. 

His name is'MoRDECAi Outlaw; and, however 
uncouth it may sound, it is one that will ever be dear 



SI 

to me, while it will be warmly cherished by my wife 
and children during life. I hope and trust that the 
government authorities may be directed toward this 
man, should they need a person for any responsible 
position in that locality. Although he fought against 
us, I knoiv that his heart never sanctioned the treason, 
and that the defeat of the rebels was not a "lost 
cause" to him. Like thousands of others, he was 
irresistibly borne along by the current of rebellion, 
when any attempt to stem it would have brought 
upon him scorn and persecution, if not death. 

I once more found myself in a wilderness, 
nearly a thousand miles from home, in the midst 
of an enemy's country. However, hope gave 
me a stout heart, and, to use a soldier's phrase, 
I resolved to "trust to luck, and stare fate in 
the face." I penetrated a large swamp, but 
walked in great misery, which was caused by my 
greedy breakfast. I had suffered much all day, and 
began to fear an attack of fever. In such an event, 
I knew I must die far from human sight, as the 
prostrate condition of my system could offer but a 
feeble resistance to disease. Fortunately, as my 
food digested, I grew better. 

When evening came, I struck out, flanked a large 

farm house, and entered an extensive pine forest. 

When I had traveled about two hours, I became very 

thirsty, but could find no water. Every moment 

added to my suffering, until my mouth and throat 
4* 



82 

became dry and parched, and my tongue began to 
swell. None but those who have been similarly 
situated can form an idea of the intense agony 
extreme thirst will produce. I searched in vain for 
any indications of water, but could see nothing to 
give me hope. I chewed leaves and grass in order 
to produce a moisture in my mouth, but they failed 
to give me any relief. 

After reaching quite a high eminence, I descended 
upon the other side; and, traveling some distance, I 
suddenly stepped into a little brook, with a clear, 
gravelly bottom, which passed directly across the 
road. I dropped upon my knees and devoutly 
thanked God. After carefully washing my mouth, 
face and hands, I sipped the water gradually, and 
sat down on a log, with my feet in the brook. I 
'took a good rest, indulging in light draughts of water 
until my thirst was slaked. 

While sitting here, I pondered over my trials, and 
debated the chances of a successful termination of 
my eiforts to escape. I often felt as now — hopeless 
and dispirited; but I would recall the likeness of the 
dear ones at home, and picture the happy meeting 
with them, and again my whole purpose in life would 
centre into an ardent desire to sit once more at my 
fireside, with my wife and children around me. 
These reflections, however, I cast aside with no little 
eifort, and once more placed my mind upon the task 
before me. 



83 

I left the brook, and traveled on until daylight, 
reaching an open country, which I soon abandoned 
for the woods, where I again made a bed of leaves, 
eat a few biscuit, and slept well for several hours. I 
awoke long before night, but was afraid to move till 
dark. As the shadow of night came upon me, I 
pursued my journey, and faithfully kept upon the 
road to Cheraw. That night I passed four houses, 
all of which I successfully flanked, and, finally, 
entered an immense belt of woods — the most magnifi- 
cent pine forest my eyes ever beheld. 

And now another trouble came upon me. My feet 
and legs began to swell and pain me, which sadly 
impeded my progress, and my biscuit were all gone. 
I began to feel very bad, and feared I was in the 
incipiency of some malignant fever peculiar to that 
section of country. Still, I kept on, and had not 
proceeded far in the forest when I discovered a light 
ahead. The trees were so thick and tall that I could 
scarcely see my way, but soon discovered that the 
light came from a house on the road, in a clearing, 
just beyond. 

I directed my course toward it, and had not pro- 
ceeded more than ten yards, before I came upon a 
dark object, made partly visible by the light ahead. 
When nearly upon it, the growl of a bear startled 
me, — for a bear it was, quietly sitting upon his 
haunches. I was nearly overcome with terror, and 
expected to find myself in his embrace every moment. 



84 

But the animal did not follow me ; and I looked upon 
my safety as another kind interposition of Provi- 
dence, for which I returned devout thanks. 

I followed the road till daylight, and again began 
to feel the torture of both hunger and thirst. Disco- 
vering a large cypress swamp ahead, I left the road 
and entered it. Here I fortunately found water, 
which aiforded me partial relief. After refreshing 
myself, I turned to come out, but soon found the 
water deepening as I progressed — first reaching over 
my ankles, then up to my knees. I stood still for a 
few moments and tried to collect my thoughts. A 
feeling of dread came over me, and I felt bewildered. 
I very much feared that alligators infested these 
swamps, and endeavored to make my way out as soon 
as possible; but, in doing so, turned the wrong way, 
— the very reverse of that I should have gone — and 
came out on the road again. I laid down close by a 
log, and, although suffering for the want of food, 
slept soundly. 

Oh, I shall never forget the sweet dream of home 
I had that day, and the gloomy awakening which 
told me " 'twas but a dream." I thought I was sitting 
at my own fireside, my wife in cheerful mood, and 
my children romping and prattling around me. She 
was preparing the table for the evening meal, and 
soon had everything upon it that could tempt the 
appetite — especially shortcake, for which I have a 
great fondness. I could see everything just as they 



85 

were -when I left. It was a most natural dream — 
superinduced, no doubt, by the hunger I so keenly felt 
when I laid down. Alas — cruel disappointment! I 
awoke, just as I was about to take my seat at the 
table, to find it raining, and what few clothes I had 
on completely saturated. 



CHAPTER XY. 

A FRIENDLY NEGRO—UNEXPECTED MEETING WITH A 
PLANTER— ANOTHER TIMELY REFUGE, 

I soon found that I was in the vicinity of a settle- 
ment. Three persons passed me during the day— one 
white and two colored; but I was afraid to ask for help, 
although in great pain. My feet were torn, swollen 
and bleeding, and hunger increasing. About dark 
I prepared to resume my journey, when I thought I 
could see the outline of a man through the dim twi- 
light. He was coming toward me, and I watched his 
approach with great anxiety. As he came nearer, 
I discovered to my great joy that he was a negro. 
I made some trifling noise to attract his attention, 
when he came to a halt and looked toward me in aston- 
ishment. He stood perfectly still, in evident fear, 
as I approached him, and tremulously asked — 

"Whoo-oo dah — who dat — who is you?" 

"I am a runaway Yankee." 

^'Oh, de lor' bless you; you is from Florence?" 

"Yes — I have recently left." 

"Dey is starvin' you dah — ain't dey, honey?" 

*'Yes — you may well say that." 

''Hab you nuthin' to eat, 'tall?" ^ 

*' No— nothing." 



87 

"Well — I's got some broken pieces ob corn bread, 
an' a little meat jet; you wants 'em wus 'an I do — 
take 'em. De Lord tell me to keep dis yer bread 
an' meat in yer, sure." 

I eagerly accepted his food, and devoured it 
greedily. The darkey informed me that there were 
no able-bodied men in the country. They had all 
"gone to war." I was about to bid him farewell, 
when he asked me where I was going. I told him I 
was on my way to Cheraw. "Why de lor' bless 
you," he exclaimed, "you is gwine right straight 
back to Florence." He set me right, bid me a God- 
speed, and I started onward, traveling all night. 

Before morning, however, my sense of sight began 
to fail me. I could not always see the road, and 
ran up against trees and bushes so frequently that 
my face became almost disfigured. I laid not far 
from a house all that day, and resumed my journey 
at night, although I felt myself growing weaker, and 
my feet and legs were now lacerated and swollen 
beyond description. I ceased to feel that keen sense 
of hunger which had so distressed me. This alarmed 
me, and convinced me that I could not hold out 
much longer. I was fast losing my vitality, — stag- 
gering as I did before reaching Mr. Outlaw's hos- 
pitable dwelling, — and should have surrendered to 
my fate, if the thoughts of my family had not nerved 
me to perseverance and greater exertion. Rousing 
all my energies, I went on until I could scarcely 



88 

stand upon my feet. But I could not hold out, and 
was compelled to lie down in the night. I slept until 
after sunrise, got on my feet again, and slowly pro- 
gressed through the forest. I was forced to stop, 
however, from sheer exhaustion, and rested until 
evening. 

That night I put forth every effort to proceed, 
although I could scarcely drag one foot after another. 
To add to my wretched condition, a drizzling rain 
set in. I tottered along, scarcely knowing where I 
was going, with a growing feeling of indifference to 
my fate, as the chances of escape became more im- 
probable. I had reached an uneven, gravelly country, 
which rendered walking very difficult, and I finally 
sank to the ground perfectly exhausted, exposed to 
the rain. While laying there, I raised myself partly 
to a sitting posture, and looked around for some kind 
of shelter. Observing a large fallen tree in a hollow 
not far distant, I managed to drag myself to it with 
great difficulty, and scraped some leaves together, 
where I laid down to die, as I believed, in a forest, 
very distant, for all I knew, from any human habi- 
tation. Here, I thought, was to be my end, after 
seven days and nights of wandering, save what time 
I slept, subsisting on but two meals, and such articles 
as I picked up on the way. 

I laid under the tree, and being partly sheltered, 
soon fell asleep. I must have slept about two hours, 
when I was aroused by the barking of a dog. I 



89 

raised up in terror, impressed with the belief that 
the bloodhounds were after me. As I partly raised 
and rested my head on my hand, I saw a dog close 
to the log, and several of them passed near it. I 
thanked God when I recognized them as the common 
cur. In a few moments I saw a man on horseback, 
approaching me from a hill a short distance off, as if 
following the dogs. I had placed some loose bark 
against the tree to shield me from the rain, and, as 
he neared me, I threw it aside on purpose to attract 
his attention. He looked toward me, and appeared 
to be quite startled. I at once accosted him, and 
said — 

"Good-morning, sir." 

"What in the name of heaven are you, or where 
did you come from?" he exclaimed. 

"I am a runaway Yankee, sir." 

"But where did you come from?" 

"From Florence." 

"How long have you been out?" 

" This is the eighth day, sir." 

"Where are you going?" 

"I am trying to reach home." 

"Where do you live?" 

"In the State of New Jersey." 

"How have you lived since you have been out?" 

"Mostly on corn and peas, sir." 

"Corn and peas!" he exclaimed, in astonishment. 
"Get up and come home with me." 



90 

With great difficulty I dragged myself from the 
bed of leaves and got upon my feet; but they were 
so very painful, and all my limbs were so very stiff, 
that I could scarcely drag one foot after another. 

''Why," said he, "you cannot walk. Are you 
hungry?" 

"I do not feel hungry now, sir." 

"When did you eat anything?" 

"I have not eaten anything but peas and fox 
grapes for three days." 

"Oh, that is awful. Get on my horse." 

He alighted, partly lifted me on the log, from 
which I could the more readily be placed upon the 
horse, and walked beside me nearly a mile distant, 
although quite an old man. We soon approached a 
little house in the woods, and was met at the door by 
an old lady. I was left sitting on the horse while 
the old folks conferred together a few moments. The 
old gentleman then helped me to alight, and assisted 
me into the house. The old lady handed me a chair, 
and gave me words of welcome, quite in harmony 
with her benevolent and sympathetic expression of 
countenance. She propounded nearly the same 
questions asked by her husband, and received similar 
replies. Sighing audibly, she asked — 

" Have you a wife?" 

" Yes, madam ; and four children — from whom I 
have not heard in the last six months." 

"Oh," she exclaimed, "I wish this cruel war was 



91 

over. Don't you want to lay down, or will you have 
something to eat first?" 

I thanked her, and said, *^I would rather have a 
wash before eating or sleeping." 

The old gentleman procured a tub, filled it with 
water, and placed it in a little outhouse. He led me 
to it, when I removed the wretched rags I wore, and 
commenced that refreshing process to a tired man. 
I was a most pitiable looking object — a mere bunch 
of bones — those of my hips looking as if they would 
protrude through the skin. Before I finished, the 
old gentleman came out with a shirt, a pair of 
drawers, and a pair of pantaloons. After a good 
washing, I put on the clothes, and felt like a new 
man. "Well," remarked my friend, "you are the 
poorest creature I ever did see." Tho word " poor " 
is invariably applied by Southern people to persons 
of wasted forms, or scarcity of flesh. "Kight 
smart" is used to express convalescence, or general 
good health. 



CHAPTER XVL 

A SEVERE ATTACK OF FEYER — DELIRIOM — MY HOST'S 
OPINION OF THE WAR — HOW IT WAS FORCED UPON 
THE PEOPLE. 

When I resumed my chair in the house, I felt an 
unnatural heat coming over me, which soon pervaded 
my whole system. After thanking them most 
heartily for the clean clothes they furnished me, I 
requested the old lady to let me lay down. She 
took me to a little room, where she had a snug pallet 
prepared for me, upon which I laid my weary limbs, 
and slept for some time. When I awoke, I had a 
raging fever, and soon became quite ill. For two 
weeks I laid in that house, hanging between life and 
death, and cared for with the kindness that parents 
bestow upon their children. 

The most of that time I was quite delirious, talking 
incessantly of my family, and alluding to the trying 
scenes I had passed through. When I became con- 
scious, I felt comparatively comfortable, and quite 
free from pain. It was some time, however, before I 
could realize my situation; for it seemed to me that 
I had just awoke from some horrible dream. But, 
as I gazed around the room, memory returned. I 
could hardly think it possible that I should receive 



93 

such tender care in South Carolina. I was in a 
good bed, the room looked comfortable, and all the 
appliances of faithful nursing were around me; and 
this, too, in a locality where I expected neither 
charity nor mercy. 

I was not suffered to meditate long upon my situa- 
tion, however, before the old gentleman came up to 
see me. As he stood over me, I opened my eyes, 
and saw his countenance beaming with evident satis- 
faction. 

"I am glad to see you looking better, Mr. Har- 
rold," he said. 

"I feel better, sir; but I am very weak." 

*'I do not wonder. But who is Caroline you spoke 
of so often ? You were out of your mind, and used 
that name frequently, with others." 

"That is my wife's name," I replied; and then I 
began to comprehend the extent of my illness. 
"Oh, sir," I exclaimed, "how can I ever repay your 
kindness to me? You have saved my life. Here I 
am, far from home, among those from whom, accord- 
ing to the discipline of war, I have no right to 
expect this generous treatment." He interrupted, 
by saying— 

"Mr. Harrold, you are no enemy of ours. We 
had nothing to do with this war. They (meaning 
the secessionists) held a convention in Sumpter Dis- 
trict, and only two old men attended it from this 
locality. They opposed the extreme measures advo- 



94 

cated by the more impetuous rebels, as far as tbey 
could Avith safety, but there was so much excitement 
that none heeded their Avarniiig. These elderly gen- 
tlemen argued against hasty proceedings, and coun- 
selled patience, until President Lincoln should com- 
mit some overt act. For this advice, they were 
seriously threatened, and were told, as they valued 
their lives, not to say one word against secession. 
Indeed, some of the more reckless threatened to 
blow their brains out. They, with a number of 
others, were compelled to acquiesce in the proceed- 
ings, or leave the convention as marked men." 

Such was the state of affairs before the outburst of 
the rebellion, as related by my old father and bene- 
factor. The reader may judge of my astonishment 
when I heard such language from a son of the Pal- 
metto State. Nor was this feeling confined to this 
particular section. I learned that there was by no 
means a unanimous feeling in favor of secession; but 
the influence and activity of the leading politicians, 
added to the clamor of a large class of idle and worth- 
less young men, who shirked the war as much as pos- 
sible when the fighting commenced, bore down all 
opposition. Thousands were thus dragged into the 
vortex of treason, because it was dangerous to both 
life and property to raise a voice against popular 
sentiment. 

Reflecting upon the jeopardy in which I might 



9 



r 



place him, and not knowing what disposition he 
might make of me, I said — 

*' Well, sir, jou have done everything that a father 
could do for me, and I do not want to get you into 
any trouble on my account." 

"Make yourself easy about that. I will tell 
you more," he continued. "The leading men, in 
stirring up this war, came through this neighborhood 
making speeches — declaring that not a drop of blood 
would be shed. Senator James Chesnut asserted 
over and over ao^ain that he would drink all the 
blood that secession might cause to be shed. These 
harangues pictured a golden future to the South, and 
completely turned the popular tide in their favor, 
because none dared to present a reverse view of the 
question. Of course, the minority had no alterna- 
tive but submission. 

"After they commenced the war, every able- 
bodied man was conscripted — my two sons among 
them. (The old man paused with emotion, and the 
tears streamed down his furrowed cheeks.) They 
were both taken from me; and while deprived of 
their assistance, we are compelled to give one-tenth 
of the little we can raise ourselves to the Confede- 
racy, and haul it to a specified depot, without one 
cent of compensation." 

"Sir," said I, "this is cruel — awful!" 

" So give yourself no concern about compromising 
me. There are none around me but very old men — 



96 

all others are conscripted; and we have no Confede- 
rate officials within many miles of us." 

Mj heart was overflowing with gratitude, and I 
again exclaimed — 

"Oh, my benefactor, how can I ever reward you 
for this manifestation of kindness — this noble genero- 
sity toward one who has no claims upon you?" 

"Never mind that. The only danger of discovery 
may arise from hunting parties scouring the woods, 
which you must avoid in daylight. A number of 
such are continually prowling about in search of 
deserters. They hunt them down with dogs." 

"What! hunt deserters with dogs?" 

"Yes, indeed; that is a common occurrence." 

"Are there many deserters?" 

"Yes, — any quantity of them in the woods and 
swamps." 



CHAPTER XVII. 

RECUPERATING — RESUMINa MY TP.ADE— WAR PRICES 
AT THE SOUTH. 

I soon began to gain strength under the tender 
nursing of her who was acting a mother's part by 
me. At the end of three weeks I could walk about 
quite smart. Some of the neighbors visited me, all 
of whom appeared to be sensible, hospitable people; 
and I found their sentiments accorded with those 
expressed by the old gentleman. They seemed to 
take great pleasure in having me detail incidents of 
the war, and were much interested in the accounts I 
gave them of the North — such as particulars in 
regard to wealth, population, general resources, and 
the progress of private enterprise and public im- 
provements. 

I found this to be a very sparse settlement, with 
neighbors few and far between. The major part of 
them were related to my old friend by blood or mar- 
riage, and he was recognized as the patriarch of the 
locality. This may account, in a great measure, for 
the unanimity of sentiment in regard to the rebel- 
lion, as he was justly conceded to be the oracle of 
the neighborhood. 

As I gained strength, I tried to make myself 
5 



98 

useful, — hoping to repay, in ever so small a measure, 
the kindness that had heen lavished upon me. Every 
morning I "svent out ^vith the old gentleman and 
assisted him to feed his little stock of cattle, sheep, 
hocrs, &c. I confess I never before saw such diminutive 
animals. He had some three or four cattle, and I have 
no doubt a strong man could have carried any one of 
them. The hogs Avere proportionately small, scrubby 
and thriftless. The feed consisted of corn-blades 
and peas for the cattle and sheep, and corn for the 
hogs. 

I would rise very early in the morning, feed the 
stock, make fence, or do anything that I thought 
would add to the interest of the family. I sought 
every opportunity to repair and fix up little things in 
and around the house, which could add to the con- 
venience or comfort of the old folks; and they 
appeared much interested in my manner and mode of 
doino- such work, as it was so difterent from Southern 
customs. The old man complimented me by saying 
that I was the smartest white man he ever saw. 

Being still barefooted, I looked around for some 
material that would answer as a substitute for shoes. 
I saw an old tan-trough hewed out of a large pine 
loo", and inquired if they had any leather; for I saw 
they were both badly off for shoes. I told them I 
was a shoemaker, and would fit them out if I could 
obtain material. 



99 

"I have a young cowhide tanned," said he, ^^and 
a lot of coon skins." 

"Coon skins!" I exclaimed; "what kind of leather 
can you make out of them?" 

"First rate," said he; and soon several were laid 
out before me. "There are some sorry ones among 
them, but a few that are good." 

I examined them, and was surprised at their plia- 
bility and toughness. 

"Now," said I, "have you anything to make them 
up with?" 

"Oh, there's the rub. I have not." 

I set my wits at work to supply the deficiency. I 
had procured a piece of maple w^ood, hewed out a 
last for each of them, and one for a daughter who 
lived with them, whose husband was conscripted. 
The lasts made, I got them to spin me some fine cot- 
ton thread. So far so good; but where was the wax 
to come from? I could not endure defeat for the 
want of so trifling, yet indispensable an article, so I 
procured some gum from a pine tree, put it in boiling 
water, added some grease, and made a most excellent 
wax. The pegs I made out of the maple. I then 
cut out patterns, and made the old folks and the 
daughter each a good pair of shoes. 

For the edification of the trade, I will state that 
this task was accomplished with rather novel tools. 
I had to use an old broken blade of an awl — refitted 
to a handle, — my whetstone was a soft brick, and, 



100 

with the exception of a case knife and hammer, these 
"were the sole implements of my trade. I also made 
the daughter an additional pair of coon-hide shoes. 
When I had them all finished, the old man examined 
them critically, and exclaimed — "Well, I believe the 
Yankees are the smartest people in the world." 

I procured an old pair of bootlegs for myself, and 
made up quite a decent pair of shoes, which I put on 
my feet with no little pride. All this was soon known 
throughout the settlement, and it was not long before 
I had plenty of work, all of which I made up for the 
benefit of my benefactors. The following is the list 
of prices he charged, when he found the material: — 

For a pair of shoes, men's wear $30.00 

For a pair of shoes, women's wear 20.00 

Half-soleing, or foxing 18.00 

Other work, including every description of repair- 
ing, was charged in proportion. 

"Why, sir," said I, "you could nearly buy a case of 
shoes at the North for what you charge for a single 
pair." 

"Well, what do you think I paid for my boys' 
shoes?" 

"If I am governed by your charges, I should say 
fifty dollars." 

"I paid ninety-five dollars for them in Camden." 

"Your money cannot be worth much, then." 

"I don't know; but such is our currency under 
the Confederacy." 



101 

I continued to work on, and to make myself useful 
indoors and out, — confining myself pretty close to 
the house, however, through the day. In the even- 
ing, I felt myself more at liberty, and frequently 
accompanied the old gentleman, who assured me 
of safety, saying — "There is nothing in the world to 
bring them here, unless they come in search of 
deserters." That accursed stockade had such ter- 
rors for me, that I could not feel secure a moment. 

There was another anxiety preying upon my 
mind. I did not know how to get a letter to 
my family. I was very anxious to apprize them 
of my safety, as I knew it would relieve them 
of very unpleasant apprehensions. I concluded 
to write a letter to my wife, and inclose it to the 
Commissioner of Exchange, in Richmond, Vir- 
ginia, as though coming from Florence, S. C. I did 
so, and my benefactor took it to Camden, S. C, 
twenty miles distant. My wife received that letter, 
which was the first knowledge of my whereabouts 
she obtained during the past seven months. I need 
not say what joy it gave them at home to know that 
I was alive and well, with a lively hope of meeting 
them again at no distant day. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

SHERMAN ADVANCING — A FRIENDLY CONTRABAND — 
THE RESCUE — MY BENEFACTOR'S KINDNESS APPRE- 
CIATED. 

I now began to turn my attention to General 
Sherman, whose advance was known to many in the 
neighborhood. I became strongly impressed with the 
belief that he would yet be my deliverer. Of course, 
we had no authentic information of his movements, 
but rumor was busy, and no doubt the panic he cre- 
ated caused the inhabitants to fear his approach 
every hour. I became acquainted with a negro in 
the neighborhood, who sympathized with me very 
warmly, and who kept me posted in regard to the 
movements of our own and the rebel forces, — that is, 
he would tell it to me as it was told to him; but he 
appeared to have pretty accurate information of 
General Sherman and his army. He met me one 
evening, and appeared to be overjoyed. 

"Massa Harrold," said Bob, (for that, I believe, 
was all of his name,) "I hearn dat massa Sherman 
got Sabannah." 

''Is that so. Bob?" 

"I's hearn it, sartin." 

"I hope so with all my heart." 



103 



a 



Dey do say he's comin' to Souf Carlina. If he 
does, I's gwine wid 'im, shoah." 

"So shall I, Bob;" but I little thought it was 
coming to pass so soon. 

My benefactor informed me that he heard Mr. 
Sherman, as the Southerners invariably called him, 
had captured Savannah, and that he would continue 
his march through South Carolina. If ever I fer- 
vently prayed for anything, I did for that event. 
There were a great many reports in regard to his 
movements, and, judging from the wide-spread panic 
which existed, I concluded that he could not be very 
far off. Finally, we received positive information 
that he had crossed the line, and was now upon the 
"sacred soil" of South Carolina. The excitement 
soon became intense. There was not a boy from 
fifteen years and upwards, or a man from sixty to 
seventy years of age, but was compelled to turn out 
and perform patrol duty. 

News came that a tremendous battle was expected 
to come off at Branchville, about seventy miles dis- 
tant from us. Several hundred negroes, my aged 
friend informed me, were throwing up entrenchments, 
and every preparation was being made to give that 
famous flanking general a warm reception. But 
when he got ready to move, that stern rebel-driver 
gave them the slip, cut them off from Columbia, and, 
one fine morning, made his appearance before what 
they designed to be the capital of the rickety Con- 
federacy. 



104 ' 

I was soon informed, by my old friend, that Co- 
lumbia had fallen. Oh, what glorious news to me. 
My heart fairly leaped with joy. Only fifty miles 
from me! 

"What shall I do?" was my first inquiry. 

"You might try to reach them," said my old 
friend; "but, remember, the Confederates are be- 
tween you and Mr. Sherman. It is reported, how- 
ever, that he is going to Charlotte, North Carolina." 

I was sadly perplexed — almost to agony. I knew 
not what to do. We heard no more of General 
Sherman's movements for three or four days. My 
suspense was intolerable, so much so, that I could 
scarcely sleep or eat. At length Bob, my negro 
friend, approached me one evening, in great excite- 
ment — 

"Massa Harrold, I hearn you cavalry come into 
Camden las' night." 

"0, Bob, that cannot be. The old gentleman has 
not heard a word of it yet." 

"I tells you I hearn it, sartin." 

"God grant it. Bob," said I, most fervently. 

"I's ready to go — all de niggers in de country is 
gwine." 

"So am I, Bob." 

Next morning, my old friend informed me that 
he had heard some Yankee cavalry had made their 
appearance in the vicinity of Camden, which is only 
thirty-five miles from Columbia. All such informa- 



105 

tion only tended to increase my suspense, although 
each rumor cheered me, and gave me new hope; but 
I kept as calm as possible, under the circumstances, 
deeming it prudent not to distress my aged friends 
by useless repinings. 

While sitting in my little room, trying to control 
my feelings, I heard the tramp of horses through the 
woods. I immediately sprang to the window, and 
beheld a horseman approaching dressed in a rebel 
lieutenant's uniform. 

^' Great God!" I exclaimed, "I am betrayed." 

I dropped down in a chair almost overcome with 
terror, and despair took the place of hope. While 
bewailing my sad fate, and expecting a speedy return 
to the horrors of the prison-pen, I heard a voice 
inquire — 

''Is there a Yankee prisoner here?" 

Again I went to the windo^i^ and cautiously looked 
out, when I saw another man in Yatikee uniform. 
Although I was still suffering from my back and 
hips, I bounded over the little stairway, and rushing 
out to the man in rebel uniform, asked — 

"Are you a Yankee?" 

"Yes, I am." 

The scene that followed beggars description. It 

would be impossible to act my part over again. I 

laughed, cried, hurrahed, and hugged first one then 

the other. I was nearly crazed with joy; for it was 

5* 



106 

the first certain evidence offered me of mj deliver- 
ance from danger. 

My poor old benefactor stood by me in great ter- 
ror, not knowing what might be the consequences to 
him. My first impulse, however, admonished me to 
ask protection for him, and hastily explained the 
heavy obligations he had placed me under. The 
soldier in rebel uniform spoke to him kindly, and 
told him to make himself perfectly easy, no harm 
should come to him after the noble part he had acted 
toward a Union soldier. 

The cavalrymen were piloted to the house by a 
negro, who was apprised of my flight and conceal- 
ment. It is astonishing to know how soon and how 
wide-spread any matter relating to the progress of 
the war becomes diffused among the negroes. I have 
not a doubt that my hiding-place was known to them 
in a circumference of twenty miles or more, and that 
had I been betrayed, I should have been warned in 
time to escape. 

I inquired where our troops were, and was 
informed that they were not over half a mile in the 
rear — the cavalry being in advance of the command. 

"What cavalry is it?" I inquired. 

"The 7th Illinois and 2yth mounted Missouri 
Infantry." 

"Do you belong to them?" 

"No; like yourself, I am an escaped prisoner." 

"What regiment do you belong to?" 



107 

"The 6th Pennsylvania cavalry." 

"Is it possible! I know several in that regiment. 
What is your position?" 

"Captain," he replied. 

"So I am indebted to Captain Hazel, Colonel 
Rash's Lancers, for my rescue, — both of them brave 
officers and true gentlemen. 

I was so anxious to see our men, that I begged 
the privilege of going forward to meet them. Cap- 
tain Hazel and myself started off for that purpose, 
leaving his companion to stay with my friends as a 
guard against any molestation. About a quarter of 
a mile from the house, we saw some half dozen men 
emerging from the woods. When I beheld the ^blue 
coats once more, I was almost transported with 
delight. I rushed toward them, and hugged the first 
man I met, embracing several in turn. This strange 
proceeding on my part quite surprised the men, and 
I heard one of them remark, "What is the matter 
with that fellow? Is he crazy?" Some of them, at 
first, thought I was a rebel prisoner, until they wit- 
nessed my joyous demonstrations. This command 
consisted of the two regiments already named, being 
the advance of General Logan's corps. 

It is proper to remark that this portion of our 
troops were the outscouts which General Sherman 
made a practice of keeping well out on his right and 
left, to scour the country on both sides of the main 
body of the army. This was done to prevent sur- 



108 

prise, to collect provisions, procure forage, and to 
make what he styled "an impression upon the 
country." They were known among the "boys" as 
*' Sherman's bummers." He ordered every rebel who 
could handle a musket to be taken as a prisoner; 
and these duties required a divergence of many miles 
from the great body of the troops. 

When I told my comrades that I was an escaped 
prisoner, they greeted me with the most brotherly 
affection. I was taken to the head-quarters of the 
two regiments, commanded by a major. When L 
beheld the old flag, I embraced the staff that bore 
the proud emblem of our nationality. I never was 
particularly demonstrative in moments of excitement, 
but, on this occasion, I was nearly beside myself, and 
must have given but sorry evidence of a sound mind. 
In my weak condition, this sudden transition from 
wretchedness to the very fullness of joy, was too 
great a tax upon my strength. I sank under it, and 
was borne from the flag-staff to the major's head- 
quarters, where every kindness was lavished upon 
me, until I grew more composed. I knew that I had 
the warm sympathy of the brave fellows who stood 
around me, for several evinced it by tears as well as 
by word and act. 

Some, perhaps, may think this picture overdrawn; 
but had they felt and suffered as I had, and endured 
the same torture, in an almost hopeless effort to 
escape — oppressed by despondency, and yearning to 



109 

embrace wife and children — they would scarcely have 
been less expressive. I profess to have a reasonable 
share of self-cojitrol, and am seldom over-impulsive; 
but this good fortune — this happy deliverance — came 
so unexpected that I could not restrain my joy. 
Had I been found by Union soldiers in the condition 
I was in when the old gentleman first saw me, and 
taken within the lines, I do not think I could have 
survived, for my system was too much exhausted to 
have endured the excitement and wild rapture which 
my safety inspired. 

I requested the Major to furnish my benefactor a 
guard, which he promptly stationed at the house, and 
I remained with my friends all night. Next morning 
the Fourth Division, commanded by Gen. Coarse, 
came up, about 9 o'clock. I was advised by the 
Major, who commanded the cavalry, to apply to the 
General for a guard to relieve his men, as he had to 
move forward. I went with my old friend to Gen. 
Coarse, and informed him of all the circumstances 
connected with my case. He promptly furnished me 
with a guard of three men, and congratulated me on 
my escape. He also told the old man that he would 
not be the loser for having treated a Union soldier 
kindly. He then asked my friend if he had any 
horses or mules. He told the General he had neither. 
(The one he rode when I was found in the woods 
belonged to a neighbor.) An ofiicer was immediately 
sent to the Provost Marshal's Office, with orders to 



no 

let him have a horse or a mule if he had any. In a 
short time my aged friend was presented with a 
splendid mule. . ♦ 

In consequence of the heavy rains, Lynch's creek 
was very much swollen. The water was so high that 
we w^ere compelled to stop two days — encamped 
within a quarter of a mile of my old friend's house. 
He was supplied with an abundance of coffee, sugar 
and other necessaries — luxuries to which he had long 
been a stranger. I was more than gratified to see 
his kindness so handsomely appreciated by Gen. 
Coarse and all under his command. It was but a 
partial return for his generosity, at least, although 
my individual obligations are none the less. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

THE PARTING — "HOMEWARD BOUND" — THE MARCH — 
EXODUS OF NEGROES — ARRIVAL AT CHERAW. 

I parted from that aged couple and their daughter 
as a son would part from parents and sister. I con- 
fess a shade of sadness came upon me as I was about 
to leave them, for they had given me evidence of 
aifection that far transcended the instincts of huma- 
nity; and I can truly say, they were entwined around 
my heart with feelings of love and gratitude that 
will cling to me while life lasts. I need not describe 
thatj^earful farewell — indeed, I could not. It was such 
as the reader can more readilv imao-ine under the 
circumstances; but I do think the parting blessing 
of that aged couple inspired me with a deeper rever- 
ence for old age, and reminded me of the patriarchs 
of old, when they piously laid their hands upon the 
first born, and devoutly uttered the words — '* bless 
thee, my son." I may never meet them on earth 
again, but, if not, my prayer is, that I shall see 
them in the world to come, where I hope they will 
reap the full reward of good deeds performed here 
below. 

As in the case of Mr. Outlaw, I hesitated to give 
publicity to the name of my benefactor; but, for the 



112 

same reasons, I will state, that the man who acted a 
father's part hy me was Mr. James Irvin King, a 
gentleman universally esteemed and respected in the 
district in which he lived. 

In view of this gentleman's kindness to me, and 
his frank expression of hostility to the rebellion, I 
could not, and cannot now, think the less of him, 
because his two sons were fio-htinsr ao^ainst us in the 
rebel army. Thousands, like him, were forced to 
yield to the torrent of passion, which swept the will- 
ing and the unwilling alike into the confederate 
ranks, and from which he was only saved by his 
advanced years and Gen. Sherman's rapid advance; 
for, as that General approached the borders of South 
Carolina, an order was issued which would soon have 
his gray hairs beside the boy of fifteen in the ranks. 
Well I know that, in his inmost soul, he has been 
ready to exclaim, with the poet: 

" Oh, pity, God, this miserable age ! 
What stratagems, how fell, how butcherly. 
Erroneous, mutinous, and unnatural. 
This deadly quarrel daily doth beget." 

My cavalry friends desired me to travel with them, 
but my health would not admit of it. I was too 
"weak to stand the fatigue. While loitering near one 
of the regiments I was approached by several men, 
who questioned me very closely, evidently with the 
suspicion that I was a rebel; and some of them ima- 
gined that the clothes I had on, being home-spun, 



118 

such as are made in the rural districts, fully con- 
firmed their suspicions. But, when I briefly related 
my adventures to them, they insisted upon my seeing 
their captain. I was soon introduced to him, and 
again rehearsed my adventures to as many as could 
get around me. This ofl^cer, who took charge of me, 
was Captain David C. Gamble, Company E, 66th 
Illinois Regiment; and to him and his men I am 
greatly indebted for many acts of kindness and ten- 
der care, during our march through South and North 
Carolina. He put me in a mess with his non-com- 
missioned officers, close to his head-quarters. 

I was furnished with a fine little animal to ride 
upon, and was assigned a position between the Sur- 
geon and Sergeant-major, in the rear of the regiment. 
We started through a vast wilderness of woods, and 
marched until nearly sundown. We encamped, as 
was the custom of this army, where fence rails and 
water were most convenient. One of my mess, an 
intimate friend from New Jersey, who took a deep 
interest in me, would take my horse and "strike out" 
on a foraging expedition. He generally returned 
with a supply of poultry, canned fruit, and other 
luxuries. I never lived so well in all my life, as we had 
any quantity of provisions on the route. Although 
the mass of the people were greatly impoverished, 
we exacted tribute from the more wealthy, who were 
husbanding their resources with the utmost care. 

Gen. Sherman, in this expedition^ started out to 



114 

feed upon the country through which he passed. He 
kept mounted foragers in advance of his army, as 
well as upon each side of the main body, "gobbling 
up" everything in the shape of an animal, poultry, 
grain, or anything else that the people could subsist 
ouc The object was to destroy all resources necessary 
to keep an army in the field. It seems like an inhu- 
man mode of warfare to bring starvation upon an 
enemy, but it is an agent of success used by all con- 
tending armies. 

It was about this time that Gen. How^ard, com- 
mander of the 15th and 17th Corps, issued an order 
to kill all bloodhounds wherever found. Nothing 
pleased me better than to know that these instru- 
ments of pursuit and torture to runaway negroes 
and escaping prisoners were to be exterminated. 
Wolves in Russia inspire no more terror in that cold 
region than do bloodhounds at the South. More 
than one poor fugitive, I fear, fleeing from starvation 
as I did, were hunted down and torn in pieces by 
these dangerous brutes. 

We maintained a steady, onward move, scarcely 
meeting any resistance. The rebels undertook to 
make a stand at a place called Flat Rock, in Ker- 
shaw District, but they were scattered and driven 
like dust before the wind, by Sherman's hosts. We 
moved on — leaving nothing but desolation in our 
track — sweeping an area of some 50 miles wide. We 
halted within 4Q miles of Florence to build " corduroy" 



115 

roads, and some 600 of " Sherman's bummers" made 
an unsuccessful attempt to rescue what prisoners 
remained at that place, but were outnumbered by the 
rebels, who kept a force of 3,000 there to guard the 
prison pen. The expedition, however, brought in 
about 100 prisoners, captured on the route. 

We pushed on as fast as the condition of the 
country would admit, followed by long processions of 
negroes, of all ages and sexes, from the babe at the 
breast to feeble old age. They could be counted by 
thousands, carrying all manner of parcels. Many 
of them took possession of their masters' wagons 
and carriages, which were drawn by abandoned 
Government mules. These vehicles were loaded down 
with every description of trumpery, some of which 
was scarcely worth firewood. It was the greatest 
sight I ever beheld, and every hour seemed to add to 
the throng. A few stayed behind who could not 
overcome home attachments, and the parting between 
them and those who were ^' bound for freedom," was 
often truly affecting. In view of the result, it would 
have been far better had they all remained, as the 
vast number who followed the army suifered many 
privations. It was impossible to feed, with anything 
like regularity, such an immense number of camp 
followers, and thousands, by hardships and exposure, 
died, or reaped the seeds of disease that led to pre- 
mature death. 
^ Onward we marched, through swamps, bogs and 



116 

woods, overcoming every difficulty, until we drew 
near to Cheraw. While approaching this place we 
heard the booming of cannon. It was Gen. Kilpat- 
rick ''touching up" the rebel army, while retreating 
across the Pee Dee River. Finally, that old town 
was discerned in the distance, and I felt buoyant and 
happy to know I was drawing near to the place I 
had started out to reach, when hunted as a fugitive. 
In a short time I was riding through it in triumph, 
with the glorious stars and stripes waving proudly at 
the head of the column. 



CHAPTER XX. 

A TERRIBLE EXPLOSION — WE CROSS THE BIG PEE DEE 

ARRIVAL AT FAYETTEVILLE, N. C. — DEPARTURE 

FOR WILMINGTON — THE START FOR HOME ! — THE 
STORM. 

We encamped in the vicinity of the town for some 
three days, until everything was in readiness for a 
forward movement. There I had the pleasure of 
seeing, for the first time, that great and glorious 
chieftain — that idol of the Western Army — Gen. 
W. T. Sherman. God bless him! and give him a 
long life of usefulness to his country. The "boys" 
loved him, and would have followed him through fire 
and water. Thi^, in my opinion, is one of the secrets 
of his great success. He had the affection of his 
7nen, because he treated them like human beings. 
This, added to the indisputable military talent he 
displayed, gave his soldiers unlimited confidence in 
him as a commander, "because," they said, "he can 
always bring us out of the wilderness." 

Everything in readiness, we took up our line of 
march through the town, halting in one of the main 
streets. While looking into a store which had been 
hastily abandoned, a terrible explosion took place 
about the distance of a square from me. The shock 



118 

was awful — stunniDg — lifting me clear of the ground. 
Some four or five poor fellows of the 81st Ohio were 
literally blown to atoms, wounding in a shocking 
manner a number of others. The mangled remains 
of these unfortunate soldiers, and the surroundinor 
ruins, presented a heart-sickening sight, such as I 
should be loth to look upon again. How strange it 
is, that men can walk over the mangled remains of 
their comrades in battle with but little, if any, emo- 
tion, and yet manifest the deepest sympathy, and 
almost shed tears, over a scene like this. 

The remains of the poor fellows, or what was 
found of them, were deposited in a neighboring bury- 
ing ground, where lie those of General Marion, the 
*' Swamp Fox" of Revolutionary fame. Had they 
fallen in battle, it might have palliated the grief of 
relatives and friends at home to know that they had 
died nobly battling for the right; bui such a death 
was well calculated to awaken the most poignant 
grief. They fell, however, in the line of duty, and 
Avill be honored none the less. It seems there were 
some twenty tons of powder in a neighboring build- 
ing, through which some of the soldiers carelessly 
passed with a lighted segar — hence the explosion. 

After the confusion and excitement incident to 
this sad calamity had subsided, we pursued our way 
across the Big Pee Dee River, started on our march, 
and struck the line of the old North State in about 
two hours. We had a great many difficulties to 



119 

encounter in this section of country, having to build 
"corduroy" roads through immense swamps and 
forests, foraging, &c., as we moved onward, but 
living luxuriously. 

At last Fayetteville hove in sight, and we soon 
encamped near that ancient town, where a consulta- 
tion was held between the military and civil authori- 
ties at head-quarters, to decide upon some plan of 
disposing of the immense number of negroes and 
refugees who had followed us. It was a terrible 
blow^ to the darkies when they ascertained that a 
large number of them were to be left there. They 
were impressed w^ith the belief that they were on 
their direct way to the North, where they hoped for 
a new existence. As their subsequent sufferings in 
this place has been a subject of newspaper comment, 
I need not allude to it here. 

It was here that I bid farewell to my kind friend. 
Captain David C. Gamble. I feel under many obli- 
gations to him for his brotherly treatment throughout 
that long march, for which I shall never cease to feel 
grateful. I must also allude to the kindness of 
several of my messmates, among whom I would 
mention Lemuel Trowbridge, Thomas Wagner, John 
Freeman, and others, who endeared themselves to 
me by those acts of generosity and tender solicitude 
for my comfort, wlrich can only spring from humane 
hearts. To these, I must add the chief surgeon and 
his gentlemanly assistants, wdio rendered m.e every 



120 

professional and personal attention that kindness 
could suggest. 

Captain Gamble gave me a note to the Provost Mar- 
shal of the 15th Corps, who procured me transporta- 
tion from Fajetteville to Wilmington, N. C, on a 
rebel steamer, in company with a number of escaped 
prisoners and refugees. Homeward bound! Free, 
and among friends! The rebellion in its death- 
throes — our army victorious everywhere — the Union 
preserved as a whole — the stars and stripes waving in 
triumph ! These were a few of the cheering thoughts 
that sent a thrill of joy to my heart. 

And here it seems appropriate to give my readers 
a description of the closing scenes of the war, so 
eloquently portrayed by Mr. Osceola Lewis, in his 
^' History of the 138th Regiment, Pennsylvania 
Volunteer Infantry," of which I was a member: — 

"On the morning of April 3d, our victorious 
troops marched through the streets of the "Gate 
City" and those of Richmond, the long-disputed 
goal of protracted, tedious, and bloody campaigns, 
while Lee's army was making the best of an igno- 
minious retreat into south-western Virginia. Close 
pursuit by our forces was made at once, and continued 
by way of Amelia Court House, until on the 6th, 
about sixteen miles west of the latter place, the 
enemy was brought to a stand, and Longstreet's and 
E well's rebel commands were fought by the 6th 
Corps and Sheridan's cavalry, with some co-opera- 
tion from the 2d Corps, under General Humphrey's. 



121 

The field chosen by the enemy was well suited to the 
emergency, being an elevated position, overlooking 
a marshy bottom coursed by a stream known as 
Sailor's Creek. To reach the rebels, our troops 
were forced to cross this difficult space and ascend 
the eminence beyond in face of a galling fire. 

The 1st and 3d Divisions of the 6th Corps were 
the only infantry commands closely engaged, and 
they, with two Divisions of Cavalry, attacked, fought 
and drove an enemy of greater strength from advan- 
tageous ground, and captured prisoners to an extent 
exceeding their own numbers. 

Here again the 138th and 6th Maryland regiments 
fought side by side, and made a charge which opened 
this battle. The troops had marched about sixteen 
miles on the 6th, and from 3 P. M. till dusk took 
part in fighting as spirited and severe as any they 
had before experienced. 

The rebels contended stubbornly, but our soldiers, 
buoyed by the great successes already arrived at, and 
knowing that an opportunity was here presented, 
strove with all their might to make it a finishing 
stroke, which was virtually effected, for it was the 
last important passage at arms of the campaign 
which finished the rebellion. It was willed by Provi- 
dence that it should be the last fiery ordeal to be 
experienced by the 138th Regiment, and conscious of 
having given substantial aid in the advancement of 
the grand result, we inscribed on our roll of honor 
last but not least (neither to the soldier nor to the 
cause) the battle of Sailor's Creek. The men who 
fought it will not forget the presence of "Phil Sheri- 
dan," Wright, Seymour, and Keifer, and how well 
they did their duty; neither will they fail to remem- 
6 



122 

her the weary march, the hasty formation, the sud- 
den charge, the awful swamp, the staggering shock, 
the wavering pause, t}ie last desperate onset, and the 
flight and capture of an enemy, who, gathering 
together trooper and foot-soldier, marine and sea- 
man, armed with sabre and rifle, carbine and cutlass, 
strove in the "last ditch" to render more inglorious 
an infamous cause, and failing, with loss of property, 
blood and honor, went reeling to his final fall." 

We left Fayetteville at 5 o'clock, P. M., about the 
11th day of March, 1865, and arrived at Wilmington 
on the 12th at 10, A. M. After remaining there 
three or four days, we got transportation to Fortress 
Monroe, in the steamer J. S. Green. She left her 
moorings on the 16th of March, and soon got out to 
sea. As we approached Cape Ilatteras the wind 
commenced blowing very hard, increasing in violence 
until night, when we experienced one of those terrible 
gales peculiar to that coast. A gale would scarcely 
express the force and power of the wind — it was a 
hurricane. The vessel was tossed about as though 
she was a mere mote upon the waters; and what 
rendered our situation more perilous, the crew were 
all sick, leaving only the captain, engineer and first 
mate fit for duty. 

I never expected to sec daylight. The sea was 
lashed to a perfect fury. The timbers of the vessel 
creaked as if strained to their utmost endurance, 
and the vessel labored as though she were a thing of 
life, and felt the responsibility of saving the precious 



.23 



lives on board. I became very despondent when I 
reflected upon the many dangers and trials through 
which I passed, — perhaps to meet a watery grave 
when hope was highest, and when so near the home 
I yearned to reach. Could it be possible that I was 
to perish after all, and never again behold my wife 
and children? I confess to more real fear on that 
occasion than I ever felt while marching into battle. 
It was certainly the darkest hour of my life, and I 
shall never forget the feelings of utter despair which 
the awful scene inspired. 

But, a watchful Providence was over us. lie 
brought us out of our tribulation. The steamer Avas 
kept steadily before the wind, and she obeyed her 
helm handsomely. Before morning the storm began 
to subside, and hope revived. We reached Fortress 
Monroe in safety, truly thankful for our preservation. 

I took passage from this place to Baltimore on board 
a steamer, and procured transportation from that eity 
to Washington, where I reported, with about twenty- 
five others, to the Commissary General of prisoners. 



CHAPTER XXI, 

HOME again! 

After waiting some three or four days to get our 
aflairs with the Government straightened up, I 
received my transportation home; and, on the even- 
ing of the 25th of March, arrived in Philadelphia. 
From the time I entered the cars until I reached my 
destination, I could scarcely contain myself. I was 
restless, nervous, and nearly wild with excitement, 
yet experiencing emotions of joy that I cannot well 
express. I reviewed all my perilous adventures, 
and could scarcely realize that I was safe, and would 
soon embrace my wife and children. It seemed to 
me to be a sudden transition from death to life. 

Leaving the depot at Broad and Prime streets, I 
at once proceeded to my brother's house, in the city. 
My knock at the door was speedily answered. The 
scene that ensued I am incapable of describing. A 
brother embraced a brother w^hom he had long 
mourned as dead; for no word had come from me 
since I wrote the Camden letter, and all my relatives 
and friends had come to the conclusion that I had 
died, or was again captured and undergoing a linger- 
ing death. The people of the North had become 
better informed of the horrors incident to a Southern 



125 

prison-pen ; and although it is impossible to exagge- 
rate them, a pretty correct idea was entertained of 
their life-destroying discipline. Indeed, it was re- 
markable that so many came out of them alive. 

Tears of happiness came to our relief; and after 
we became more composed, I ventured to inquire, in 
a tremulous voice, after my wife and children. Oh! 
what if one of that dear flock should be missing! 
But, worse than all, what if the wife and mother 
should be snatched from me while absent! It was a 
moment of inexpressible anxiety. But ah, what a 
happy relief, Avhen my brother informed me that they 
were all — all — alive and well. 

Now my joy was most complete, save the unavoid- 
able delay of meeting my family until Monday, as the 
train did not go down to Atlantic City on Sunday. 
But the certainty of joining them so soon made me 
content to wait, and I thanked God that they had 
been preserved to me. I felt that I was about to be 
rewarded for all my trials and sufl*erings. 

On the morning of the 27th of March, 1865, I 
took the cars on the Camden and Atlantic Railroad 
for Atlantic City. I was on my way home ! Oh, 
what magic in that word home — the goal for which I 
had labored, struggled, suffered and wept for so 
many long months, after an absence of two years. 
Time passed at a sluggish gait — never did cars move 
so slow. I could scarcely control my impatience. 

^s we neared Atlantic City I was left alone in 
6* 



126 

the car I occupied, the remainder of the passengers 
having been left by the way. I reached the depot, 
however, in a state of nervous excitement, not know- 
ing the residence mj family then occupied. While 
still sitting in the cars, I heard a rush of boys 
toward the entrance, and the two foremost, on open- 
ing the door, simultaneously cried out, "My pappy!" 

One I recognized, the other I did not. The next 
moment a female form came into the car and sprang 
toward me. I need not say that it was my beloved 
wife, and that I clasped her to me in one long 
embrace. For some moments neither of us could 
speak. But I will draw a veil over the scene that 
followed. The reader can imagine the caresses, the 
endearing words, the joy, with which a husband and 
father was welcomed home to wife and children. 
My wife could scarcely control her feelings. Laugh- 
ing and crying at the same time, she would exclaim 
to all we met — "Here he is — I've got him at last." 
And the boys, for several days, w^ould inform 
strangers as well as friends of my arrival. "Father's 
come home," seemed to be their daily song. 

When I reached home, and once more became 
composed, my strength began to fail very rapidly. 
I had been kept up by excitement and anxiety. 
That gone, I sunk to a very prostrate condition. 
Mine had long been but artificial strength, and now 
the reaction commenced. I lay under medical treat- 
ment for three months before I could gain streiigth 



127 

to move about; and when I left my bed I was very 
feeble and completely broken down in health, never 
again to be repaired. 

The exposure and hardships I endured left me 
but a wreck of my former self. Although I slowly 
improved in health, I am by no means the man I 
was, and still feel the eifects of my imprisonment 
and starvation. I shall carry the marks of rebel 
cruelty to my grave, perhaps at no distant day. 

I find I can no longer apply myself closely to ray 
trade. Pain and weakness are sad drawbacks, and 
the only source from which I can derive a proper 
support for my family is proportionately limited. 
Necessity, however, compels me to pursue it, and I 
am content to bear my afliictions, since they were 
acquired in the path of duty. To have been an 
humble actor in the stirring scenes which put down 
rebellion and banished treason from the land, is a 
proud — a glorious — record; one that soothes the 
most acute pain, and adapts my wants to my means. 
I would scarcely exchange it for health, wealth and 
luxury. I feel that I did my duty in the glorious 
and successful effort to preserve this Union, and the 
hicjhest in command did no more. 

I cannot close this brief narrative, in justice to 
many warm friends, without alluding to the kindness 
they exhibited toward my family in my absence. 
They received many favors from persons upon whom 



128 - 

we head no claims; for all of which I am truly grate- 
ful. 

To Governor Curtin, of Pennsylvania, the country 
is largely indebted for his labors and efficiency, as 
well as his personal sacrifice of health and means, to 
save our glorious Union. Every man who shouldered 
a musket will look upon him as a benefactor; for he 
left nothing undone to make the hardships of war 
endurable, to relieve the sick and wounded, and to 
care for their families at home. Excelled by no 
executive, and equalled by few, he set an example 
that could not fail to inspire zeal and patriotism in 
the great American heart, and which served to bring 
to our ranks thousands of the hardy mountaineers 
and gallant yeomen of that noble State. Governor 
Curtin needs no prouder record on the page of 
history than that which will give a faithful detail of 
the services he rendered his country during the 
rebellion. 

To Governor Joel Parker, also, and the State 
authorities, much praise is due for the assistance 
afforded the families of soldiers; and the troops of 
New Jersey owe to him a debt of gratitude for his 
provision for the sick and wounded, as well as for 
looking after the comfort of those in the field. The 
State Agency established in Washington gave great 
facilities for the reception of necessary comforts 
from the homes of the soldiers, and for communi- 
cating with their families, that could not have been 



129 

obtained otherwise; and many a sad heart was 
cheered — many of the sick revived — by letters and 
articles of luxury forwarded to camp by Colonel 
Rafferty, the State Agent. 

I must repeat, that I do not pretend to give a 
history of the battles in which I participated, nor of 
the events that gave prominence to the war, during 
my connection with the army. A soldier cannot 
take in the movements of a vast number of men at 
a glance like the general in command, who plans and 
directs. He can only speak of his immediate sur- 
roundings, and this is all I have attempted. I relate 
my own experience, and what I saw — nothing more. 

I can, however, vouch for the truth of the details, 
as I know there were always too many witnesses pre- 
sent to attempt exaggeration. My desire is to pre- 
serve a record of my services for my children, and 
to give the reader some idea of the sufferings, perils 
and triumphs of war, from a soldier's standpoint. 
If I have succeeded in winning commendation for 
the brave men who perilled health and life for the 
preservation of this glorious Union, I shall be well 
compensated, aside from the gratification of assisting 
to cement "many in one" for all coming time. 

JOHN HARROLD. 

Atlantic City, N. J> 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER I. 
Enlistment— Drilling— Picket Duty 7 

CHAPTER II. 

Active Duty — Flanked— The Countermarch— Battles of Wapping 

Heights, Kelly's Ford and Brandy Station, 10 

CHAPTER III. 

The Army Reorganized — General Grant takes Command — The Bat- 
tles of the Wilderness — "On to Richmond!"— The Terrible Con- 
flict at Coal Harbor 16 

CHAPTER IV. 
Promotion— Capture 23 

CHAPTER V. 
Starting for "Libby" 30 

CHAPTER VI. 
The Horrors of Libby Prison— The Food— The Vermin 33 

CHAPTER VII. 

A Move for Andersonville— Incidents of the Passage— Inhumanity 

of the Rebels — Woman's Sympathy 36 

CHAPTER VTII. 
Andersonville— The Prison Pen— Captain Wirz— A Scene of Misery. 42 

CHAPTER IX. 

Incidents of Prison Life— The Cartel— The " Dead Line " 45 

CHAPTER X. 
The Chances of Escape Considered— The Attempt Made— A Failure 
—Caught in the Act ^ 

CHAPTER XL 
Our Removal to Florence— Fallacious Hopes f>9 



132 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XII. 
Another Plan of Escape— We Resolve to "Run the Guards"— The 
Flight- Bloodhounds on our Track— Perils of our Situation— 
They Lose our Trail 62 

CHAPTER XIII. 
Life in Forest and Swamp— Precarious Subsistence— Help from an 

Unexpected Source 68 

CHAPTER XIV. 
Again on the Tramp— A Ruse— Another Period of Suffering and 

Privation 76 

CHAPTER XV. 
A Friendly Negro— Unexpected Meeting with a Planter— Another 

Timely Refuge 86 

CHAPTER XVL 
A Severe Attack of Fever— Delirium— My Host's Opinion of the 
War— How it was Forced upon the People 92 

CHAPTER XVIL 
Recuperating — Resuming my Trade — War Prices at the South 97 

CHAPTER XVIIL 

Sherman Advancing— A Friendly Contraband— The Rescue — My 

Benefactor's Kindness Appreciated 102 

CHAPTER XIX, 

The Parting—" Homeward Bound "—The March — Exodus of Ne- 
groes — Arrival at Cheraw Ill 

CHAPTER XX. 
A Terrible Explosion — We Cross the Big Pee Dee— Arrival at 
Fayetteville, N. C. — Departure for Wilmington— The Start for 
Home I— The Storm 117 

CHAPTER XXL 
Home Again ! 124 



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